


Ghosts he left behind

by Feather_Dancer



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety is a wild ride, Creepslayerz in the house, Deeper into the angst mines we go, Disassociation, F/M, Feral Behavior, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hints of WarStaff, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, Jim would like to put all his issues into a box and deal with them never, Lakes with brooms, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Questionable use of music, River Trolls, Team Hug Jim Lake Jr., Trauma Bonding, Troll Jim Lake Jr., Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, thanks Merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 62,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22615291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feather_Dancer/pseuds/Feather_Dancer
Summary: When Merlin set a choice before Jim, one about how he would choose to fight in the upcoming Eternal Night, the Trollhunter decided to risk everything he had ever known by pouring the elixir and immersing himself into the dark waters with only the hope he was doing the right thing behind him.But what if upon his new awakening, he never made it home?Tags updating as required
Relationships: Barbara Lake/Walter Strickler | Stricklander, Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez
Comments: 36
Kudos: 103





	1. Destiny is a gift

**Author's Note:**

> The culprit for this entire AU existing would be this [AMV](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wtzyjz74aIk%22) and me doing a puzzle on New Year's Day with the song in question rattling around my head giving me terrible, terrible ideas.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~ ~ _It is always darkest just before the dawn_ ~ ~

When you get older, plainer, saner

When you remember all the danger we came from

Burning like embers, falling, tender

Long before the days of no surrender

Years ago and well you know

Smoke 'em if you got 'em 'cause it's going down

All I ever wanted was you

I'll never get to heaven

'Cause I don't know how

~~~

If you asked him what happened in the moments after he had submerged himself and was lost to the world, Jim will be the first to admit it was not anything like he had expected? If that could make any sense when talking about how you went and dunked yourself into a potion that Merlin ( _The_ Merlin) slung together from a bunch of seemingly random ingredients, including lightning in a bottle which is still kinda unnerving to think about given the whole stalking fiasco, and tossed into a blender until it glowed like it was radioactive. By his own admission, even at that point, he was more than a little terrified by what the potential _outcome_ would be afterwards over a bathtub full of water turning horribly dark.

But to strive and triumph in the face of fear, is what it means to be a hero. Right?

This was no longer just about _him_ anymore. There was too much, far far too much, riding on his choice whether or not to grasp every chance he could wield and hope with that it'd actually be enough for what was to come and it is why he chose to be the Champion the world **needed** him to be. He could do this, he could, it was absolutely the call to make. There would be no turning back, sure, but the final words he heard shouted through the door only went and reinforced the belief to go forth and let this choice forever seal his fate.

And thus, all it took was one last breath and he allowed himself to slip under.

There was a persistent feeling he can only describe as a tad on the _eerie_ side when he is beyond the world he once knew though even that word barely scratches what it was really like there, he's not entirely sure what word(s) could possibly manage or if any existed. It was filled with such an complete _silence_ of everything and all, even managing even to quieten his own distraught mind, with the one lone exception being rhythmic beat of his own heart that accompanied his slow descent into the void by the weight of each resounding thud. Around him felt a little like air that believed it was an ocean yet, weirdly, there was no sensation of drowning or even that he should be. It was though the entire concept simply ceased to exist there.

By surrendering to it so absolutely as he did, he was in turn granted this feeling that he could trust in what was going to happen next, whatever it may be, which caused the waters to strip away the last of his nerves and ills. A humble reward in the form of being allowed to simply subsist without being part of the _outside_ where the guillotine hovered in wait for his eventual return, all for the price of being in an abyss that seemed without any possible end. That sense of serenity he was temporarily granted there would be a feeling he would hold onto tightly for times soon to come.

The moment is then utterly obliterated when pain blazed through his chest without any warning and contorted his mouth into a silent scream. His consciousness was swiftly devoured and lost after that, he remembers nothing more.

These were the final gasps of a human.

~~~

It is probably pure _survival instincts_ alone that cause hands to reach out from beneath those dark coloured waters, to claw away at the lake's bank and slowly haul the rest of his body clear, inch by inch, until the fabled Trollhunter is left laying on his stomach with feet still partially dipped under the surface from how he barely acts conscious otherwise. He remains there for a few minutes under a cloak of early evening shadow, newly wrapped in fresh black and reds and breathing somewhat steady despite the recent exertion that brought him here.

Suddenly limbs abruptly burst into a flurry of movements in a macabre attempt to crawl, to stand, to walk, to **run** from this place like some form of twisted auto pilot command has activated and must be obeyed. It quickly fails miserably when new legs buckle from the effort on the third step and sends the poor teenager crashing back into the dirt with little more than a pained grunt emitted from the sprawl to show for it all. A second attempt barely hauls him onto his knees before another collapse and thus it is seemingly accepted that anything further will result only in nothing and that he will be going nowhere for now. Arms and legs begin to curl around his otherwise unconscious and still aching body to order to protect him from any potential threat that may come while the glowing reds of the Eclipse armour dutifully take their cue to soften. Keep hidden, stay safe.

Jim's eyes never open even once while any of this is happening, nor will he ever have any awareness of his attempt to leave this place for his mind remains trapped in the darkness he has unknowingly already left behind. Apart from the slow and steady rise of his chest and the occasional twitch of a newly lengthened ear, little more will happen here for many hours.

~~~

In his surprisingly peaceful rest a frantic dream comes to him that refuses to reveal its self in anything other than vignette with an added touch of frost on what he is allowed to view. Through it he can see himself clutching a hot chocolate that wafts a little of cinnamon, well swathed in a large fluffy blanket on the sofa in a place that could only possibly be _home_. His mother is there too, snuggling up beside him (Did she get the night off somehow?) with the blanket spread across her legs and tucked into her side and clinking her own mug with his. She leans over a little to whisper something silly to him from their clear laughter and shared smiling faces but he can't quite make out whatever it was no matter how hard he tries. It bothers him somehow.

As though a switch has been flicked on, suddenly the Jim on the outside can hear all sounds coming from the room perfectly and almost as soon as it happens his chest begins to contract with sheer _guilt_. Everything that then tumbles out the doppelganger's mouth comes in the form of all the apologises he's rehearsed so so many times in his head, the ones he's been avoiding telling her because the current chaos never seems to let up long enough for him to do it. Sorry for lying to her so much even if the reason was just. Sorry for not telling her the truth the first time and for not keeping his promise to do it the second. _Sorry for being terrified of hurting her just to do it anyway again and again._

Barbara listens to each and every word he says with the utmost patience, watching as her boy slowly slumps boneless into her side while holding the mug a touch too tight, his anxiety starting to take over his expression. When his words begin to turn into disjointed rambling with sorry being every third word, she takes that as the sign to wrap him into a one armed hug and tells him that it's alright, it will be okay, whatever it is that comes for them next they will all face it down together. He has his friends, the acquired guardians that she does admit is taking a bit to get her head around, and he will always, always have her. Because that's what mother's do, kiddo, she soothes.

His other self tries to hold it all back, truly he does, but the tears start to well while he makes little more than another series of broken stumbled words with each more muffled than the last until he finally gives up on trying to speak entirely and buries himself into her arms instead. Much to their watcher's surprise, they start to trickle down on his own face too defiant of any of his attempts to rub them away from eyes.

Maybe when he wakes up, maybe he should finally tell her all these little things he's been holding back for real and say screw the world for five minutes, it owes him that _at least_ that at this point. She more than deserves it after all for this continual unfolding mess he brought to their doorstep, plus she really does give the best hugs. He happens to glance back to this dream version of her at the same time his other self looks up with a softened smile and a face still wet. As though they rehearsed for that specific moment, they both manage to say the same thing in perfect synchronisation with such open fondness in each of their voices.

"I love you, mom."

~~~

The night is mercifully young when the Trollhunter begins to stir for real, coming complete with a grumble about it being far too early to start with, then an vague wonder about where the duvet has gone off to though all in all he seems being pretty reluctant to go about the whole waking up thing. It feels like he's slept the best he's managed in _weeks_ and to be honest? He kinda wants to savour that lovely lull for as long he can get away with or at least until his stupid alarm starts to nag. Regardless, a three fingered hand dares to reach out from the loosened ball to pat near him anyway and it makes his face scrunch up in confusion when it doesn't encounter anything that feels soft or familiar as it should be doing. One sleepy blue eye that is still a little damp cracks opens with a barely stifled yawn alongside to discover he can juuust about make out the edge of a shoreline which it in turn appears oblivious to the strangeness of it existing where a table ought to be. A worried frown starts to develop as the other eye opens and in such an elegant response to the entire situation while his half-asleep brain tries to process exactly what he's looking at, Jim blinks. Then repeats.

_This is not my room what the fuck_

Deciding this is _clearly_ some kinda messed up dream in a dream scenario type of thing, he shuts his eyes tight, takes a deep breath and opens them again to discover the immediate environment acting rather unperturbed by his confusion. Distinctly unnerved, the newest area resident struggles using limbs that feel more flaily than normal and a dull ache resting deep in his bones until he manages to get himself into a sitting position that is comfortable enough without wanting to immediately fidget. Of course it is all easy enough to put down to the fact he was sleeping on the ground for... some bizarre reason. But yep! There sure seems to be a huge random body of water that is sort of there, in front of him, and he's _definitely_ not at home either. In fact to top it all off, he has honestly no idea where here even _is_ other than being God knows where in the wilderness, somewhere.

"Uuuh huh."

_Thanks for your fascinating input brain, that has truly solved the mystery_

Holding back another yawn trying to escape his throat, Jim tries to muddle through a plan of action in his head while absently tapping fingers on the ground. Wasn't there this whole thing they used to drill into you as kids about if you get lost to not move from the spot in case somebody comes by there to find you? He is _kinda_ lost, if not really intentionally, and if nothing else might give him a bit more time to take stock of the situation while he wakes up proper over wandering around aimlessly? It's not much, sure, but it's something and it's always better to start off small and work your way up and out with better information when working with unknowns.

So! What do we have to work with here? Well he's next to a fairly sizable lake _as irony is like that apparently_ , and if he tilts his head up a little (Which feels a off...?) he can make out thick branches of an age riddled tree riddled strongly with leaves shading the immediate area he is in and looks to be stretching a ways over the water as well. Might be a whole bunch of them actually, trees that is, if he squints a bit intertwined deep making for quite a large canopy above and around. Logically that means maybe he's out in the woods? Can't say he recognises this area specifically but there's bound to be patches more ancient than the scraggy little things more on the outskirts, or where the goblin incident happened, plus he doesn't wander around in them quite as much as he did as a kid adventure hunting with Tobes. The air smells a of freshly disturbed earth, dainty scrub flowers and recent rains too kinda like you'd find packed into an air-fresher but a bit more, uh, _realistic_. Distantly he can even make out an owl's call carried over the gentle night's breeze and the rustling of something small scurrying through grass.

It might not make all that much sense to anybody else but there is something about this area he has found himself in that feels particularly _safe_ for reasons he cannot quite put a hand? And it's that very thing that helps alleviate the worst of the fears about being chucked out somewhere completely unknown. Maybe it's the lack of any obvious threat hovering over his shoulders here? The concept is a bit of a novelty after the past few weeks of nonstop train of caffeine, stress, ( _What was lost, final words_ ) and the constant worrying that he's tried to shove aside for a time more appropriate but hey, he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth in case it does decides to turn around and bite him.

Humming a little in thought it is with oh such innocent intentions that he happens to put his chin in a hand to think better on how he may have gotten here in the first place and at first nothing registers as particularly odd about it, at least not until his faces sinks a little more into his palm and a tooth just happens to catch against a stray finger. In that very moment, the blessed little bubble of ignorance he'd unknowingly been surrounded by since awakening begins to burst and allows the truth to come rushing back in with a vengeance.

Jim stiffens as his gaze hastily shifts to where the _wrongness_ was felt to be met with the distinct black and glowing reds only the Eclipse armour could possibly create, not the now dearly familiar silver and blue he _should_ be wearing right now even if the memory of the why he expected to see that instead remains a little on the hazy side. He gives the hand a rather incredulous look, moving it away from his face to stare at it properly and confirm that yep, he is not imagining or just plain seeing things different, tilting it this way and that as he does.

"Wait, why am I-"

His expression immediately changes to that of complete alarm, the same hand slapping over his mouth to swiftly cut himself off before he has chance to say anything else. His jaw feels all kinds of janky and heavy too, like his teeth have been shifted and jumbled about and he can feel a sharp something, wait, _two sharp somethings_ , poking roughly against the chainmail that should definitely not be there _what the_ _hell_. It only makes his rapidly frazzling nerves pitch ever higher. He both wants to pat his face and see if there's anything else has warped but at the same time he's kinda terrified to do it and oh God the thing in the Deep had troll teeth like how these feel didn't it? Does that mean he looks like that monster?! More importantly, does he _really_ want to know the answer to that question? It was like a horrifying warp of himself that snarled, hissed and prowled like an animal! Plus it also tried to kill him but that is neither here nor there with the current situation and _can we focus a little on the whole unfolding personal crisis here_.

Taking a deep breath, a worried whine slips out on the exhale before he tentatively places both palms on either side of his face while internally trying to wrack his brain for the whys and whats of this _thing_ that is happening (Happened??) to him is supposed to be. What little they are allowed to touch feels much longer than they ever have be- _ought to be_ , sharper edges, the base of his ears are not rounded but feel like they've been stretched out beyond the reach of his fingertips. His right hand too is distinctly out of place with no armour like the left and it's putting a cooler sensation on his skin instead of any warmth. It feels rough, not soft, thicker and oversized and _wrong_. It brushes past hair that feels coarse and spiky that stretches down near his chin where it has no right to be. He hasn't even started shaving yet!

This is not the face he's always known held between his hands it's not it's not this isn't him. He shouldn't be here he should be at home with mom because something happened they were all looking before something worse came for them and something stopped him leaving and _and **and**_ -

Desperately he tries to hold back a panic attack that is starting to bloom but his breathing is already becoming erratic and as disjointed as the thoughts that struggle to focus on any one thing by each passing second and it's all only getting even _worse_. This isn't right he didn't ask for any of this or to be here or to be alone he can't where are they where are they?! Everything hurts so damn much his head is pounding hard against his skull and he's all **alone**. Nails and armour alike try to bite into the flesh of his cheeks but the motion does absolutely nothing to help ground the increasing hysteria. He tries clamping his eyes shut willing everything to stop whatever the heck they're doing and start making actual sense again while he slumps to the ground to the sounds of his own pitiful broken sobs.

He's human! Normal! Bit squishy and noodley sure but just a regular human that happens to be the Trollhunter!

_... Isn't he?_

Flashes of images casually present themselves for his perusal, never lasting more than a blink before it has already moved onto the next and the one after that like a kaleidoscope made up of fragmented memories that are distinctly uncaring for the soft hiccups and tears of their audience. A door slammed shut, a sword clashing with his own, furniture being smashed, crashing to the floor, being tied to a chair, a blender filled with glowing green, a chance, freedom but not allowed to leave. An angry voice filled is with his own words, insistent ones berate him in turn before giving him an offer in the form of an ominous jar before disappearing.

If you want to save your mother, your friends, this world you call home - I'm asking you to CHANGE!

_The Amulet chose you to become the first human Trollhunter but you were never destined to remain so. To protect the world you love, to be the champion of both humans and trolls you need to be MORE than human. You need to become both Troll and Hunter!_

_You must pour the elixir into water, submerge yourself in said water and, presto! You'll be born anew_

**_The choice is yours to make_ **

Merlin.

It was Merlin.

It was Merlin and a potion of magical bullshit created by a ludicrous fetch quest and he... he is the end result of using it.

Sniffling, Jim rubs his eyes very gently using his left hand seeing as his arms and armoured hand is out the question unless he wants to scrape metal over his face which he cannot say he does particularly. He feels gross and disgusting, he probably looks it in every sense too _plus_ his head hurts so much from both crying, the ache of everything that has happened and trying very hard not to think about bruises he should have that seemingly vanished when his body turned into whatever _this_ is supposed to be. He should try and see what he looks like now really, he does have the option with the water right there but it feels so scarily committal to being a _thing_ and not a person if he did and he's... not quite sure if he's ready for that or even if he could be. He's just so completely drained and riddled with obnoxiously loud thoughts he doesn't want to hear nor entertain that shout on anyway. Even the simple concept of touching his face again is too unnerving for what else he might find right now so thinking better to avoid it entirely he settles instead for pulling up his knees close to his body, wrapping his arms tightly around them and all the while trying to make himself as small as possible while rocking a little on his heels.

He really really doesn't want to be alone right now but here he is anyway, utterly so, and he can't understand why he's been left _abandoned_ in the middle of nowhere all because he believed in what the wizard said, that his humanity (The very thing constantly praised and derided by others) would not being enough to win in the upcoming battle for both worlds. Couldn't he be bothered to at least be here or make sure somebody he knew would be instead? Was beating him into submission until he was willing to listen not enough? He wants Claire, he wants Toby, he wants his _mom_. Just somebody, anybody, to tell him it'll be okay and he didn't make another giant mistake on his never ending list of them since picking up the stupid amulet, for things to start making some sense again so he can figure out what he's meant to do right now.

"And this is the price I paid, the consequence," he mumbles, flinching when his tongue catches one of the weird additions in his mouth. He snuffles his chin further into his knees to try and deter it happening again while looking thoroughly miserable.

Jim sits there for a while with eyes still stinging, trying to pull himself into some sort of state he can function without wanting to immediately break down all over again about everything he's gone and _lost_. He doesn't know for how long he does so, having no grasp of time anymore and the shadows around him offering no help on that front either, but at least it is gives him a bit of time to just... be. His mind remains frayed and sometimes he can swear he hears more skittering of small things further away but as it might be something else Different thus he tries hard not to pay too much attention to it. Nobody ever comes to find him while he's there either and that fact hurts him as much as the _relief_ nobody can see the leftovers of the _human teenager_ that has been left to rot out here. The safe feeling is still here too, humming around at the very edges of his conscious whispering gentle reassurances, and he admittedly does appreciate not having to be so constantly vigilant. It helps to settle the worst of the ill feeling weighted in his stomach, if only a little.

Of course there is no doubting at all whether he could fight if an ambush happened somehow all the way out here or not, he's been trained to always been ready and since Gunmar's escape he's been more high strung about it than usual even! It's just, he needs a bit longer to get around the concept of _what_ he is now before he would feel confident enough to fling himself into a blur of focusing purely making it the other side intact. Not that it'd stop him doing it anyway mind but, still. His fingers start to fidget again for something unsaid and he does his best to dismiss it with the thought of, not now. This particular battle is internal.

Glancing up to the water's edge it remains there still, just teasingly in reach if he just tries to move a little closer to as if to say, here you can look anytime you want and there's even enough light to cause a reflection and make it easy for you to see. For incredibly understandable reasons despite the "tantalising offer", he feels rather reluctant to move from his little protective huddle where he can hold onto denial as long as he can get away with it, thanks. A bit longer, just a bit...

 _God_ this is just embarrassing! He took on freaking Angor Rot more than once, he slew Bular which feels forever and ago now with everything that has happened since, he **survived** the most harrowing two week plus experience of his life that _still_ gives him regular nightmares (The ones he won't tell anybody about) and yet he's too damn scared to see what actually became to him and make it real. It'll be awful from what little he's managed to make out by accidently touching things that really do not belong on his face but putting it off won't magically (Ha!) make it any easier. Doesn't stop the temptation to try though.

With another deep breath there is a final grumble about how he would like the fact of how stupid this is and how much he really does not want to do it stated for the record please and thank you. Accompanied by a steeled expression and an air of utter grudging, he moves cautiously upon hands and feet without meaning to for those last few steps but even _that_ held determination falters into stalling a few more seconds before he dares to look down to reveal the truth. As distracted as he is by everything, he fails completely to notice how the shadows on the water surface deliberately part enough in his distraction to allow for a picture perfect circle to act as a mirror for him to observe and behold the brand new him.

_Alas there is no going back, part of you will remain Jim but the other part will never be the same_

Perhaps he should be thankful for at least some small mercies when familiar blue eyes, if a bit little puffy and red, stare back up at him and the odd fact that his eyebrows are still normal apparently? It's weird how when you get completely mangled by magic it's the things that remain exactly the same that stand out the most, maybe it is because it diverts attentions from the everything else that distinctly _isn't_ anymore. He looks like a disaster of wrongness, his echo from the Deep turned so utterly tragic and wrapped tightly in a blue grey colour that now makes up his skin. Even that **thing** was more human looking than he is now and think that makes him grimace in sheer disgust.

"Oh wow, don't I just look hideous."

It is stated so matter of factly whilst peering at the weird elven ears he's gone and sprouted with an odd look. There is an honest attempt to resisting to poking at one of them, to confirm if they're really there or not and one whiiiich he promptly fails to do when a fingertip traces along the edges of the left. If he's allowed to admit it, these can go onto the acceptable list - oh god he really hopes he imagined it twitching just now that's just strange and Nope. Please don't do that ears aren't meant to _wiggle_. Secretly he wonders what Claire would make of them, maybe cute? Then quickly distracts himself by making ridiculous faces to see how his new jaw contorts with the newly sprouted teeth before he gets chance to linger too much on how much he's already missing her and Toby and how they should be here and how much they _aren't_.

Fuck his emotions are all over the damn place. Can he just have at least some consistency in how to feel and run with that instead stop changing every few seconds please! A small part of him just wants to cry over the unfairness of it all again, another wants to punch something (Merlin) with a snarl, maybe yell at someone (Also Merlin) and on top of it all he kinda wants to throw up a little in general as his stomach continues to curdle. He should still be able to do that, right? Anxiety induced nausea says heck yeah but nothing about him is _human_ enough anymore to be certain. He could swear that the pounding headache he figured was fading has started coming back with a vengeance as an added bonus, ain't that just ruddy fantastic.

It's while cocking his head to one side check out the fact his hair appears to have joined Team Blue (Ish) during all this apparently and letting out the most dramatic sigh about the general _awfulness_ of it all is what makes him notice _them_. He'd either missed somehow entirely or just subconsciously ignored their existence which is honestly the most likely culprit. Horns. There is a pair of godamn horns sticking out his skull now because of course there is, this is his life now! With an even greater unwillingness to touch the newest additions than he'd already held for anything else, Jim reaches out and traces the shape of them in the water instead to get a "feel" for how they appear with a barely audible growl. They're pretty compact all things considered, he'd guess, maybe? Not like somebody who would make his heart clench if he lets his mind drift _and_ _now is not the time_ , just a single sweeping shape over his skull matching on both sides.

Muttering grimly under his breath, a hand is roughly wafted in the water to disrupt his image with a hint of malice about it, first to clean it of the mess then to rub the still damp fingers over his face and "freshen up" as best you can in the circumstances. As life desired one final fuck you (And one a little ironic) about his new appearance, it finally clicks what has been bothering him so damn much and his lip curls at the edge as a result.

"... Excuse me, bastard stole one of my damn fingers," he grounds out through clenched teeth.

" _Rude._ "

It is at this point Jim has quite frankly had Enough. He looks and feels like some freaky abomination that is currently in the Eclipse armour, utterly emotionally exhausted, in the woods somewhere presumably and as a delightful bonus on top, all alone! Groaning loudly he scoots back away from the edge so he can simply flop over onto his back and avoid the risk of seeing himself again then grunts in further annoyance when the new horn tips stop his head laying as flat as it _should_ be able to forcing him to shift a bit more to stop a crick in his neck developing. It is while idly if very judgingly staring at his malformed hand stretched out above him, giving himself chance to think for good or ill, that a solitary notion comes unbidden and crosses his mind to which he can only offer a huff of agreement in return.

_Guess it takes a monster to beat a monster, huh_

Jim Lake Jr. is not entirely sure what to make of this giant shift in reality he has been thrown into honestly but he knows, _God does he know_ , he still needs to **be** the Trollhunter he knows he is, human or not and get out there and fight the only damn way he knows how until the very end no matter what state he's in personally. He turned his back on his calling once by burying his head in the sand instead and he point blank refuses to make that mistake again. Ever. A brand new resolve burns strongly in his eyes and his raised fist clenches tight in pure _defiance,_ he refuses to let his fear control him when he's still sorely needed. He has to finish the fight.

With a grunt the energy to finally rise is summoned if with growled irritation, an offer for the universe at large (Or Merlin, it's either or at this point) to piss the hell off resting on his lips and the far more comforting concept of soon being able to throw himself back into the fray where he won't have to _think_ beyond the moment he exists in. When it's all over, finally and truly, he can go back to having a nice little breakdown over his new state of being without anything else rudely trying to interrupt it afterwards! It will be a hero's reward and he cannot help a bitter giggle at the idea of adding it to the ever-growing backlog of issues he's been pushing far down into ignorance until a better time that never seems to come. It's worked pretty okay so far and he can wait, there's more important things to worry about. There always is.

Up he gets upon unsteady legs that are not quite right, stretches out the aches and cracks accompanied by a back that refuses to remain quite as straight as it should do and whilst yawning a little too wide, though this time he's quick enough to not let himself have the chance to dwell on the unusual. Time will be short and he has probably already wasted far too much of it as it is and who knows what has happened during his absence. With one final look around this little space that he unintentionally claimed as his own and ensuring to commit the scent and feel to memory in case he needs to make his way back for whatever future reason, the Trollhunter launches himself into a run as fast as these limbs will carry him for a test for what this strange new body can _really_ do.

His gait begins loped and unsure while longer legs start to feel themselves out and relearn their balance but even within a few strides how much more distance he can cover in just _one_ is already more than obvious. So he pushes, then some more and more until he slowly slips into an easy rhythm of running with small testing jumps across the ground that effortlessly fall back into step ready for the next like he'd been doing this his entire life. Breaking out into a familiar lop-sided grin it is at that point he slows just enough to fall into a low bow then lunges upwards into the surrounding trees before quickly regaining his pace in brand new terrain. Feeling confident enough, he starts to experiment with kicking off different points, figuring out how best to land without any risk of stumbling plus getting the added bonus of knowing how best to salvage any missteps that do happen. Hey nobody can see him so he can mess up as much as he likes! Granted he does at least have the decency to offer silent apologies to any small animal or bird he unintentionally sends scattering but ah, his attention is more on being in this moment that feels just so _right_ for the first time since he awoke out here.

By the time he is bouncing randomly between the branches, higher and further with each attempt in sheer reckless abandon while using hands to reach out, grab and swing with even greater momentum than before, the thrill is enough to keep even the tidal waves of revulsion and niggling home sickness at bay and bury them under an expression of sheer unbridled joy and laughter.

~~~

Despite being far from being tired (Which uh shouldn't his stamina be spitting by now?) and no more idea of where he is than when he started, Jim does eventually pause his "run" on the most recent tree perch he happened to land on coming complete with a few leafy attachments he has since gained sticking out of his hair. For all the bliss he was allowed for a time, the thoughts he doesn't want to hear started to creep back in no matter how far he tried to escape or distract away from them, getting louder and louder until he finally grants their desired attention through the form of a break. The very simple question they want an answer to in the form of a unassuming, why?

_I can glimpse the future_

_I care, I do, I just see the bigger picture_

Once more he is inundated by the words of Merlin that roll and tumble around that troubling question mark that never seems to have a forthcoming answer with it. For someone who _claimed_ they could see things to come in visions and kept showing unnerving signs that proved it (Knowing exactly where mom was, knowing how he'd try and fight back to the degree it looked choreographed), he would have known where he would end up so why was there nothing? There had to be a **reason** for it, everything with that damn wizard is even when it felt like he was just being deliberately obtuse for seemingly self-entertainment. Is he really _that_ much a danger to his friends and mom being like this that it became important to keep them separated? Could he harm them somehow and he foresaw it but as ever was too cryptic in case it swayed him to not go through with the potion, elixir, whatever? The idea makes him feel nauseous again and ears subconsciously lower with worry. He'd never forgive himself if he did even by accident. Never.

The Jim _they_ knew (And loved) has been ripped away and replaced permanently with a freakish amalgamation that looks to belong nowhere and is filled with all sorts of weird thoughts that are foreign, he can well believe this is the why the wizard did it if it is. He feels like a living threat created out of all sorts of wrong and pieces of his old self that was mangled together to make something capable of... things he couldn't possibly do before if just running amuck in the woods is any indication. The mire of his realisation attempts to reach out and suck him back down and it makes him feel guilty for having to wrap an arm around his chest just to help steel off all the pain building up too high. It's just so hard keeping your head above water without help of familiar faces and his mom, he wants to see them so bad is that _really_ too much to ask?

There's not a portal between them this time and yet it feels like they're all further apart than ever, he absolutely _hates_ it. Bark begins to crunch under the tightness of his grip.

God, he needs some way to let them know he's okay, if a tad misplaced and broken up, but it has to be without them seeing him so there's no risk anybody can get injured (Or worse) because of him. That should be okay, right? Not tempt his disaster magnet abilities too much? His phone would have been the best option but, nope, left it in the bathroom so it wouldn't get ruined! So that's out. Leaving a message is too, partly as he's got nothing to act as messenger on his behalf or even write with, plus these stupid unwieldy fingers probably couldn't hold a pen right. Whiiich all leaves an actual sighting aka the precise thing he wants to avoid as the best option...

_Unless_

What if they saw just enough of him, which would also let him see them too? Merlin might _want_ him working alone for whatever heck reason he's decided (Threat) but they're a team no matter what, they will always have each other's backs and he absolutely refuses to change that now. He can thrive on hit and run tactics if he absolutely has to, it's what helped kept him alive before his eventual capture in the Darklands after all, and as long as he doesn't hang around afterwards nothing bad can have a chance to happen, right? All he'd need to do is make sure his face remains hidden as it's way way too obviously uh, blue? Inhuman? Pointy? and he should be pretty golden! The thought of seeing them again, maybe even very soon if he can pull this off, makes him feel a little bit giddy but hey it's for good reason! So with that, he straightens himself back up using the trunk as an extra support, gives his head a thoroughly good shake to try both remove the temporary lodgers and to sidestep any further distractions creeping up on him then begins to get ready for tackling the next issue to solve.

"Right, so how can I get this stupid thing to activate without any form of head trauma," Jim says looking up at his bangs with a quirked brow, expectantly.

"Uh so testing, testing? Switch on? No that's not it, maybe I need to think it th-"

The startled squawk he lets out is probably not the most dignified sound he's ever produced (Before or after) nor was the panicked flail that very nearly sends him tumbling backwards to the ground below for which he was barely spared by quick reflexes scrabbling for purchase and managing to clutch the tree even tighter in alarm. In a moment that can be defined only as pure teenager, he cannot help a quick look left and right to make sure nobody noticed even knowing there shouldn't be a soul in sight (Furry or otherwise) before letting out a massive sigh of relief at there being nothing. Yeah, okay, not his finest moment right there, maybe he should have done this a bit lower down if he's gonna spook himself with his own armour activating like an idiot.

_Toby would have laughed and filmed it, Claire would have given him a pitying smile but they're not here, are they?_

Deciding better than to risk it again, and not because he's made himself paranoid now nope not at all, Jim rather carefully sits down, shuffling backwards on the branch he was formerly standing until his back has something more solid behind it before letting his legs drape on either side to help keep him balanced. A hand clutches tree as an additional anchor point to help lessen the risk of another unexpected exit. We very nearly ended up looking like a demented blue squirrel there but managed to keep at least _some_ dignity intact, it's the small victories sometimes.

Now able to safely focus on what's actually important, it _does_ feel a bit weird having the helmet on when he's not... fleshy but not in a bad way? Kinda? Cocking his head to one side he follows the contours with curious fingertips to investigate. It should probably be more claustrophobic than it does with the visor down as it is but while he can feel a light pressure against his uninvited head attachments, which touch confirmation says are covered as well, his ears don't feel like they're being flattened against his skull nor his teeth (!) squished or anything else so maybe it adjusted and adapted to his new head shape? It's kinda reassuring he didn't get magically sardined in which is not something you should have to worry about but you know, weird times and all.

"Sweet, that's one entire crisis averted!" The smile is heard in his voice as much as the one on his (hidden) face as he raps the it a couple times with knuckles to double check it still feels sturdy enough.

"Okay game plan is I use this whenever I'm where somebody might see me and take no chances, out here I should be okay without it completely though. Man I'm so gonna have helmet hair something fierce aren't I."

With barely a thought about how it could be a little easier to see, his armour reacts by making the visor split and tucks it's self away leaving him to blink dumbly and let out a, huh okay that's cool, in response. By his own admission he kiiinda should have experimented with it a lot more or even _used_ it for that matter after he acquired the ability rather than rely purely on it being triggered when needed but then he never wanted to hide his face particularly as it made it much easier for trolls to realise he was more squishy, Trollhunter or not, but that no longer applies really does it? The opposite now it would seem, ironically. Childishly he blows his hair up while crossing his arms to think.

"So the big question is, what do I up and go do _first_?"

Vaguely, in memories a little foggier than they have any right to be, he recalls Blinky and AARRRGGHH were heading out to try and recruit more trolls to aid in the fight against Gunmar when Merlin jumped on the chance to catch him alone. If they're not back yet (They didn't know how long it would take but then his sense of time is long out the window too) that means it might be worth swinging by to check in on the Market trolls and make sure everyone's okay before considering if he can sneak anywhere near home. If nothing else he'll feel better for knowing and for a bit of travelling practice "off ground" practice somewhere a bit less natural won't hurt though preferably with less falling, that'd be great. Hopefully their trip was more successful and less, uh, dramatic? Than the hours or however long it was has been him and they managed to get some recruits for the all hands on deck for some mystery deadline that could call the end of everything when _she_ decides for it to happen. I mean, stopping potential world ending events should be good enough incentive for anybody, you'd think, but trolls can be weird about throwing their lot in if experience has anything to say about it. Mob rule seems a big thing.

That said, the local trolls shouldn't mind too much if their Trollhunter has a few more minutes to himself before he goes to pay them a sneaky ninja visit, hopefully. He'd like to enjoy the peace a little bit longer and totally not because of the potential of another fight with the forces of gravity happening the second he tries to get up. Really.

~~~

Getting into Arcadia proper and out of the endless seeming woods? That part was pretty easy it turned out when you're finally heading the right direction. The problem _really_ came from the same issue the trolls had during their escape: the gaps between trees and potential sanctuary are pretty big and even _more_ ill designed for somebody trying to keep off the ground and out of sight while crossing said gap as fast as possible as he is doing. Through bad luck more than intention, he comes out more towards the suburbs than the meat of town forcing some rather intrepid improvising and a bit of fool's luck to get anywhere. It turns out goblins were onto something when they abused the street lights to help keep out of sight, seriously, though he's more using them as a precarious jumping point to cross the roads and get back to much more solid buildings again over trashing them as he's actually civilized and stuff. With the one or two slipped tiles, a solitary misjudging of distance (No falling! Just clipped the brickwork honest) and having to pause whenever stray car that just happens to pass by at this probably ungodly hour, he is within sight range of the furthest reaches temporary Market far faster than he could have ever hoped to bike it in an old life. The difference stings.

To his great relief upon arrival however, everything seems as normal as it _can_ be really from what I can spot from high above on the various rooftops and relying on streetlight and suspiciously better night sight anyway. Bagdwella's current camper for instance stands as obvious as ever, distinct in being rigged with Christmas lights at the back, though she doesn't look to be there at the precise moment which is not too surprising given her constant need for supplies to drive a hard bargain or barter with, Glug is in another alleyway adding some more ingredients to the bathtub of glug before getting back in (We don't talk about that, ever), Pechu, a hulking orange troll with half broken horns, looks to be dragging- oh wow is that an entire _washing machine_ he's got there? Most of the residents at least have the sense to stick to diving and not outright stealing but hopefully Blinky can double check when he's back here and can ask about it, just to be on the safe side. Can't imagine why he wants one though and he probably doesn't... want to either, blissful ignorance can sometimes be a good thing.

All things considered they have all settled pretty well, adapting surprisingly to some pretty terrible circumstances that forced them from their homes through a string of betrayals and the compounding loss of those they could not get to nor out in time (And some since), it's far from ideal but maybe they can start figuring out something more permanent soon... Somebody else will have to bring out the clipboard to make sure everybody is in situ before dawn in his place tonight mind, after the robberies incident caution only mattered more.

It is during a time he had fallen idle during one of the impromptu patrol he set out on, hands casually draped over the lip and listening quietly to the background noise of the active denizens getting ready to settle again in secrecy that he notices something even more out of place on the surface than even they all are. The information comes first by a twitch of ear, a scent carried on the gentle night then narrowed eyes as all the information is carefully processed and a frown as the possible answer is not one that is well appreciated. It warrants further investigation, better safe than sorry being the mantra of the hour.

It takes two more rooftop scrambles with a shortcut via a billboard that has been rather rudely propped up with rigging in the way (They must have started to erect it again after its recent mishap but _we don't think about the cause)_ in between but despite the temporary hiccup he manages to quickly catch a glimpse of the culprit of his unease a small distance away if closing. The growl that has continually been building in his throat the entire way is barely bitten back in time before it can potentially give away his position and risk putting them on alert. His nose might not have been as good back then but if you spend long enough somewhere without any respite even a human one can have the distinct stench of dust, death and dark glowing rock embedded into subconscious memory and this troll positively _reeks_ of the presence of the Darklands. They are alone, a patrol much like his own one perhaps, just here to poke the haystack and see if anything can be smoked out all the while casually strolling down the street as though it were the most normal thing in the world for dark and green stone with a weapon ready for stragglers to do so. It makes his stomach roil but this time not from anxiety but of **anger**.

_Not on my watch_

Are they stupid enough to think that the trolls were left without their guardian since the last ambush forced them to flee a second time? This is _their_ territory, temporary or not, and they have a right to exist and feel _safe_ without Gunmar's forces breathing down their necks ready to steal yet another home from them. He leans out of his position just enough to peer over the edge like a gargoyle ready to spring at a moment's notice, hands curled tightly over the edge and pupils slit. If looks could kill well, it's safe to say the intruder would have already been dust the very second it wandered into sight from the angered glare and expression of utter contempt that comes complete with bared teeth directed their way alone. Feasting on his want, his _need_ , to protect and prevent any harm coming to his innocent charges, old words spoken in his own tongue cross his mind as a reminder as though he might need to hear it one more time.

 _A Trollhunter answers every call_

_Don't think, become_

The visor clicks shut and without realising it, Jim gives himself over freely to the instinct to **hunt**.

It will take them a little longer to broach his current location, a minute or two max at a rough guess, but it does not mean he cannot listen out and plan ahead in the meantime for their imminent arrival. A first glance towards the alley shows none of the Market trolls are in the immediate vicinity which is good, though a vague sense one may have passed through fairly recently, a wide floor space surprisingly tidy and there is a closed dumpster at the dead end with a few (No doubt raided) bins beside it, there is also scaffolding easily reachable with a small drop below him and a robust looking metal frame to hold the lot of it up that might support some extra weight if it had to. The nearest light source is a bit further up the street creating heavy shadow the further away from it you go making harder to see beyond the entrance without physically entering the area, with the right incentive to come wandering this way. He's used far worse a setup and hey, work with your environment to help make things easier for yourself, just like he was taught.

With a great deal of care the Trollhunter slips over the periphery, lowering himself ever so slowly until secured first only by elbows, then a solitary hand while body and feet stretch out as far as they can manage. All the while he is being ever so mindful of the risk of armour scraping on brickwork, pausing at any sound coming from himself that may potentially threaten his position until he's certain he remains in the clear. Ears keep tuned for any change to the quarry's route until the steps become heavier, louder and more certainly coming his direction to cover what his sight cannot. Satisfied his choice is still good, he loosens his hold in one movement and lands easily on the next with the soft rattle of scaffolding planks that shake with health and safety code violations. Another pause is greeted only by the outside sounds creeping closer and thus he does his best to mimic those steps to reduce any additional noises until he reaches the supports holding up the platform, now ready in position for his next little manoeuvre when the other party is within range.

_Just a bit more..._

**_There_ **

When they sound to be mere meters away, one of the smaller blades is summoned forth and swiftly snatched up with a grin that is toothy and wide. The frame held by his other hand is tapped with the weapon once, then twice, awaits with patience for an intermission in the movement outside then taps it one final time to ensure their attention is sufficiently grabbed which it would appear to be so by a somewhat puzzled sounding grunt. To finish up the trap, a shiny piece of bait is put in play by the very same blade being allowed to "accidently" drop to the ground with a loud clatter before stilling. True he could have thrown it but that might not been loud or convincing enough for them to notice and these things do not give second chances to get right when you want to avoid any potential alarms going off. From previous experience they are usually solitary when wandering like this but caution is good in case that ever changed.

To their credit, the target in question at least tries to appear wary, choosing not to move their body into potential harm's way until their gaze has swept one side to the other for potential threats. Another grunt and they step into full view with parlok spear held in a fighting stance ready, ever alert and looking for the source of the odd sounds they had heard but each time distinctly failing to realise they are being watched ever so intently from up above to their furthest left. Just as it might be they will wander back to their intended route it is in that moment the "shiny" is spotted laying ever casual and distinctly discarded before them. Making a further note of confusion with the vague knowledge of whom it would belong to and the blatant fact that the wielder is distinctly _absent_ , they approach gingerly with an even tighter grip on their own weapon and only risk coming close enough to poke at it as though it might potentially jump and attack all by its self.

Imagine the Gumm-Gumm's sheer bafflement when the glaive suddenly vanishes right before their eyes and their wonder about how can this be? Makes for enough of a distraction to miss the groan of metal suddenly forced to bear weight when a body launches over it certainly. By the time they realise a vicious snarl is hurtling towards them at unnatural speed it is far too late to avoid or prevent Daylight moments from being driven straight into their chest. An expression of surprise permanently etches onto their face as they petrify, the sheer momentum of the blade and collision from its wielder forces the body to tumble backwards and shatter into chunks upon the hard concrete. Yanking the sword free in a harsh movement and taking a solitary step back from the dusty remains scattered about his feet, the assailant straightens his back while glowering at the fallen, utterly silent if not for than breathing a little faster than before.

_Always finish the fight_

By the time a concerned face of a former Market troll dares to pop up from under the lid of the dumpster they happened to be searching in (Then temporarily hiding from all the commotion) and peers into the outside world, they spy a surprise addition in the form of a rockery that has graced their presumed doorstep. Jim meanwhile is already long gone.

~~~

It takes an alarming number of minutes to pass before sense to start seeping back into his bones and for dredges of a feeling that both fits ill and perfectly naturally rattling around in his brain to be shaken away. Maybe it's the adrenaline doing it? He _did_ feel a rush back there, no denying it, but it was for a purpose in taking the threat down before anyone was discovered! Or at least that's what he tries to reassure himself with when words are again coherent instead of harbouring a desire to growl at any sounds that could be perceived as a potential threat to himself. His unease is not particularly helped by the rather startling realisation that he is about half way home, at a guess with having to take alternative directions now, and that he doesn't remember when he decided to start... heading this way let alone going or when he gave the command for the visor to be lifted either.

_Not like any of this is disturbing at aaaaall_

It is also what results in him being perched rather precariously on top of a lamp post (Stopped still this time) while trying to get his head around the new mystery development. His balance is being kept reasonably well despite being wrapped in armour though, would surely do Nightcrawler proud even if a bit more on the dorky side than cool as you can't have everything if you want to keep the world in balance. At least they colour match, kinda. He was _planning_ to head this way after he'd checked up on the market so _that_ bit isn't so much a problem, it's these little memory blanks and fogginess that keep piling up with no real rhyme or reason behind them and the fear of something important being lost until they decide to wander back and punch him into remembrance. Hell even anxiety blanks that have picked away at everything and nothing over the years are never _this_ bad and in this particular case, "introduced and subjected to trauma" can't be the culprit for it happening. Fights never normally make him forget anything either, he's been in enough that it's a tried and tested science at this point which can be good and downright awful at times.

Sticking his tongue out in annoyance, he makes one more wary look around before continuing the way he was apparently going in literal leaps and bounds as it is probably not a good idea to try and figure out weirdness while blatantly in the open where somebody on the more nocturnal scale might happen to spot you. There is also the fact it kinda acts as a piss poor distraction for things you _don't_ _really_ want to think about that just love a good respite for opportunities to gate-crash and say hi in comparison to what the freedom to run and needing to watch your landings where they cannot even try anything.

Slowly but sure the teenager is getting the hang of this landing on rooftops thing without the, uh, accidental damaging of tiles (Sorry!) from using too much force on departure or the whole nearly sending himself skidding off from how smooth some of them are proving if he puts his foot down a bit wrong thing plus has discovered it is much easier to land on two, reposition on four then spring again on two. Chimneys, when available, are absolutely your friends and it shouldn't ever be understated how beloved they are to him now for their existence as a nice flat surface whereas in comparison gutters are need to be declared evil incarnate, it was a rather horrifying discovery so many people don't bother to clean them out so when you accidently put your foot in one it's all very gross, both in smell and accompanying gloopy sound effects, and it makes him shudder enough to need a shower very badly. He admittedly can't remember the last time he helped clear out his own and is kinda regretting that now but at least he could probably do it without a ladder now.

Eventually his travels lead him to finally setting down upon a very _particular_ rooftop with a soft whumph on one end of the slope and with a rather genial stroll, if not one on two feet, upwards to the tip ensuring to keep far enough away from the loft window and where he can at last camp out for a breather. Compared to all the others he's passed by to get here though; this one is far more familiar if perhaps not quite as intimately as actually physically standing on it is. It feels almost scandalous, Toby and him had tried multiple times as kids to get up here but with lack of a reachable overhang for shorter limbs and it being ridiculously slippery regardless of being rained on or not, they had to abort that plan but it never really stopped them trying whenever they thought the odds were reasonably good. The victory at finally conquering their own personal childhood Everest, if annoyingly solo, feels a tiny bit smug though would be better with the proper audience present to appreciate it and maybe gloat.

Most important though, a small detouring trip down memory lane aside, is the fact here in their humble cul-de-sac everything looks to be safe and secure and distinctly _normal_ despite everything else going on and that he can perch (Ridiculously) here while listening intently without any fear of being jumped, or more worryingly caught in the rather blatant act of eavesdropping. He's hoping badly that he can catch even just one voice he needs to hear despite the probably horridly late hour and he should really be sleeping, all so he can just _know_ they're still okay ( _Unharmed_ ) but alas, all there is to be found is distant snoring - wait no there's soft chittering that is much closer to his position too. Barely on the fringes can he make out a dull hum of a TV too along with the faint grumbling of a watcher who undoubtedly can only treat it like a glorified audio book with channel flicking options, heh. It's late, late late, Toby is probably out looking for him and wouldn't even be here would he? The shame of not even thinking that would be a possibility hurts as much as the sheer need to simply see him.

_I am such an idiot, stupid stupid_

Slumping with his head in hands, fingers very deliberately kept away from catching lowered ears which is still freaky and not particularly sure the concept is liked very much, Jim reluctantly looks over to the house he's called home his entire life and lets out a soft whine. Mom's car is there meaning she's home safe (After after, _after - no she shouted through the door she was there you **heard** her_) and must not have had to dash out again afterwards for another shift or at least not yet, unless she decided to stay home? He wouldn't blame her given... everything that happened even before he disappeared on them all. Hopefully she's eaten something, she has to have right? They got home super late to find she was gone then - _Hmn nope we're ignoring that bit_ \- it wasn't exactly early when she banged on the bathroom door either. She gets so busy and forgets unless you put nourishment in front of her or remind a few times then an extra time after she gets distracted. Toby would do it, sure, but he's all about heard of disaster _he_ made of the kitchen in his last absence and while the lack of smoke is reassuring, it doesn't solve the problem or the worry. Please can somebody have at least remembered they could get takeout? Hell, he'll grudgingly take _Strickler_ suggesting it as long as it was made absolutely sure she's got actual food in her system and not trying to power through on thin air and coffee. Again.

In an attempt to let his mind wander elsewhere, he notes that all the lights on this side appear to be off with the lone exception being the hallway brightening the back of the door. She used to do that sometimes when he was coming home late on a particular day or during the winter time when she was home before he was, a shining beacon to show the way home she would always joke. That said he feels part moth in the way it's just so enticingly right there taunting him to come closer but he manages to resist the siren call, if barely, staying put despite the fact he _isn't_ running straight over with reassurances he's okay mom, he's home! makes him sink all the lower with remorse.

Hopefully she's managing to get some sleep and that's why it is dark though he is a little confused why the thought of a fluffy blanket springs to mind at that. There's no movement otherwise that he can spy though a small smile creeps up on him when he sees his bedroom curtains are still as open as he left them that morning. Whenever he spent the night at Toby's when he was even smaller than the failed rooftop ventures, he had this really bizarre fear that because he wasn't there _monsters_ (Oh that is some healthy irony) would try and move in because he wasn't there to fend them off. As a compromise to satisfy him, mom had promised to keep his curtains open to let the lights outside in to scare them away in his place and he could keep a vigil as well whenever he wanted to from across the way. It was silly and he long grew out of it but they kept doing it anyway as one of their little things to say "I'm still thinking of you even when you're not here". Even with the chance of him not seeing this little silent gesture, she made sure to do their little thing anyway just in case he might.

Ugh, it might be worth checking the back for any signs of life instead of moping up here all night? It does hide from the lights better and away from the worst of any potential nosy outsiders, it's why they ( _No, not now_ ) used it back in the early days and it always was the easiest for the trolls coming from the Market, before everything happened. He should go check, it can't hurt to see. Just get up, take a few steps away and follow the trees where he can keep nice and hidden. It would be far lower risk of startling anybody in comparison to say if he risked a mad dash across the court to get within reach for yet more gallivanting on houses where they could easily happen to glimpse the monster lurking about above them if they looked at the odd noises from a landing.

It could still go wrong; he could still be seen even this way maybe he shouldn't maybe -

_But I'm so close_

_Don't waste this chance_

_No more excuses_

**_Go_ **

**_GO_ **

It takes a few minutes longer to get there than maybe it should have done thanks to the springing paranoia of _just in case_ driving him much deeper amongst the trees than perhaps he needed to be before looping back around. He does finally comes out at the very fringes however, those nearest the fence and as close as he dares even if all the while ensuring to stick only to the deepest shadows in an attempt to remain a hidden sentinel of red here to check things out. An unintentionally slightly foreboding one maybe but (Hopefully?) a non-threatening looking one if bad luck makes anybody happen to look this way and will give him time to bolt.

His expression positively _leaps_ with his heart the very second an ear picks up a pair of voices (It's them!) coming a small way away from the backdoor but it abruptly crashes again, painfully so, when he catches a glimpse of a pair of sullen faces trying to keep a quiet conversation in his garden. A step forward is taken before he can even try to stop himself and the second he realises he just as quickly shoves himself back against the tree he's camped by and clamps a hand firmly over his mouth to prevent any chance of blurting out anything that might be potentially heard. He wants to so it so badly though, to yell he's here, run to them, hold them close, never let go again and _he can't_.

"- pid wizard said just to keep waiting, it's only a matter of time now. UGH!" Claire's hands ball into fists as angry as her tone. She looks so damn tired glaring up at the night sky, Toby gently pats her on the shoulder with mutual sympathy.

"Plus he still tries to go 'oh fair Claire' at me like it will calm me down any while ignoring everyone else like you guys don't even matter!"

"Yeah, acts like a hot shot but this goes and happens then suddenly oooh it must be the way of things oooh~! He still won't say why downstairs looked like something went and exploded while we were out ooor even help clean it which, you know, super rude." He looks pretty worn too if countered somewhat by sheer annoyance at a particular house resident. Said wizard must still be in there at the moment which is a bit disconcerting, considering.

" _God_ , I know right? He just wanted to fiddle about with the TV remote and be vague with his "becoming a true Hunter" crap and won't even tell us. What. Happened." She's crossed her arms now, pivoting away from the direction Jim is in meaning he can't make out her expression anymore and it just adds to his increasing worry as a result.

"Just, do you think Jim's okay? It sounded like the bathtub went and sucked him in then potentially spat him out just about _anywhere_."

_She sounds upset - Claire sounds **upset -** He's still managing to hurt them without even BEING there, what would he cause if he was with them? - He was right - He was right_

Toby unintentionally turns away from him too at that, nudging closer to her while she stares up at the very window in question, being solid and grounding as ever while offering his hand if she wants to take it though for the moment she seems a little too distracted to letting out a mournful sigh and running a fingers through her hair, tugging some of the strands.

"Hey hey, with all the messes we've been through together he'll be here when it counts, nothing keeps 'im down too long. Gotta try and keep the faith up and fuel it with wanting him back for payback on captain crazy armour in there, yeah?" Ever the optimist, he can almost picture the reassuring smile on his face without needing to see it, but then even Toby's shoulders start to sag with apprehension while his other hand waves in emphasis. Maybe she did take it?

"It's the whole _radio silence_ thing that's got me feeling all antsy. Dr. L's worried sick too and he'd H A T E that. The whole lying to her for so long was killing him inside, _both_ times, like the stress was keeping him up at night on top of you know everything else."

A grimace, not even a little bit wrong there, Tobes. He _really_ needs to find some way to check up on her too.

"I just, a sign would be nice you know? I'll take anything at this point it's not like "You can't find Jim because there is no Jim, at least not the one you know" isn't like ominous as _hell_ or anything for my Shadow Staff to suddenly stop wor _king when I try to reach for him. I swe_ _ar he's enjoying givi_ _ng us the damn run_ _around."_

It is in that very moment that the Trollhunter loses touch with the entire conversation he was listening in on for his brain having latched onto the words Merlin (Presumably) had said about him with eyes widening in the horror of realisation. His hands grasp the ends of his horns, actually _wanting_ to feel their solid weight between his hands while his mind starts to race faster and faster taking his heart rate speeding along with it.

... What? That can't be right! He might not be human anymore (Bury it - bury it), he's a living weapon with the title Trollhunter that was taken and reforged into an awful thing to have a chance in the upcoming battle, but he's still Jim! He even said part of him would be so he is still who he is somewhere in the mess than he is now! Even despite how his head keeps hurting and he wants to run as much as he wants to be with them. He is still Jim Lake Jr.!

_...Isn't he?_

**_Or did the wizard take that away from him too?_ **

By the time he manages to shake the thoughts away with a irritated scowl to stop them from seeping their claws in any further, he witnesses the two of them hugging one another close and no longer talking as they were before meaning while he blanked and probably went missed something that might have been _important_. His hands fall away accompanying the feel of yet another stab straight into his suffering heart. He should be there with them too not hiding out here, God he wants it so badly! But he can't risk anything happened to them because of him, even if it means his chest has to suffocate more and more under the painful longing feeling that grows from roots that have buried deep in his chest. Aaugh, he should go before he does something stupid. They're still okay ( _Alive_ ) even when they're not, same as he is. Gotta try and hold onto their voices and their faces for now, lock it away deep inside where nobody can ever take it away from him and never ever let them go. Has to keep them safe, has to, has to. He's absolutely nothing without them.

"I'm ... sorry," he says it with the softest voice he can manage, barely holding it together as he turns away.

Risking one final glance over his shoulder, he watches them wander back into the house, an arm still looped around the other all the while whispering more comforting words that are too distant and muffled for even his new hearing to make out. It is then, and with the greatest of reluctance, that Jim disappears back into the night's own embrace feeling like an utter coward and begins to run and run before any of the welling tears start to shed and his resolve at being forced to leave them behind cracks completely.

~~~

Wishing I could see the machinations

Understand the toil of expectations in your mind

Hold me like you never lost your patience

Tell me that you love me more than hate me all the time

And you're still mine

So smoke 'em if you've got 'em 'cause it's going down

All I ever wanted was you

Let's take a drink of heaven

This can turn around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening/closing lyrics for this chapter: [Lost On You - LP](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hn3wJ1_1Zsg)
> 
> ~
> 
> I think that went quite well.
> 
> A huge thank you to my friends/victims, Darck and Luis, who having been putting up with me going on frequent tangents since the very first day of 2020, suffered early drafts of sections that may have since been deleted and have joined me in yelling at this AU's existence repeatedly. You're equally to blame for encouraging me and ensuring this thing came about. 
> 
> Now you can enjoy the entire mess in context yourselves :)


	2. Never forget that fear is but the precursor of valor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grief is a hard thing to deal with and when you are left with only question marks the road can be even harder still. This is what the rest of Team Trollhunters were up to after Jim disappeared from their lives on that faithful night.
> 
> ~ ~ _Those who walk in the light will still be pursued by shadow_
> 
> _Sometimes one must turn around and acknowledge it's there before they are able walk away taller than before_ ~ ~

I can't understand it

The search for an answer is met with a darker day

And we've been handed these moments forever

But I'm reassured there's another way

You don't have to close your eyes

There is room for love again

Ease the pain to realise

All that love can be

~~~

Grieving, she decides, is resting on that very thin line between defiant anger and simply breaking down without knowing if it is ever going to _stop_.

The half-full mug is clasped tightly between her hands as the last dregs of warmth peter out between her fingers yet, somehow, she cannot find the ability to care about the wasted drink nor for the pervading chill it gives. To be honest, it is the very _act_ of holding that stops her from hurling it at the wall and start screaming of loss and the sheer injustice fuelled by a mother's fury that had been in turn caused by the smugness of a so called wizard who just ushered them all to simply be patient and wait for when all would be revealed. It'd be cathartic perhaps, but she refuses to give him the _satisfaction_ of seeing all her rage and frustration on full display. Hell, by an unspoken consensus that had developed amongst the other current household guests all had mutually agreed to simply rebuff Merlin's very presence after he refused to help any of them understand what he meant beyond " _finally becoming a true Trollhunter_ " in the form of creating child stealing bathtubs. The glares sent his direction were far from subtle mind, not that it seemed to make any difference from the sheer indifference he had shown to the concept.

It rankled badly in her gut. Did he not _care_ about what they had found behind a door that for some stupid reason they couldn't break through until it was already far too late to save him? The very one they had banged, shouted and outright begged for Jim to come back to them? That his own mother and someone he had once declared his favourite teacher had to be his final witnesses before they lost him, potentially forever? They saw, _oh they saw_ , Jim drift away into a strange darkness before that scarce little window dissolved clear and took her precious boy down with it and there was _absolutely_ _nothing_ she could do to stop it. Any of it. She was meant to **protect** him yet he was snatched away, taken somewhere she couldn't even hope to follow because of bullshit he was dragged into only months (Months!) ago that demanded a literal _teenager_ throw his life away to try and fix everything for them!

Even with saying all that, Barbara is very glad the kids were spared from seeing what... ever it was that they did. She felt like her own heart was being ripped out there and then, what would it have done to them? Toby and Claire, they had helped with the unexpected clean up along with Walter without even thinking anything of it whereas the wizard in contrast refused to do anything (A running theme it seems) and boy it grates something awful given he was likely the cause behind _that_ as well. Afterwards, the two of them had gone off to camp out in Jim's room while making excuses and apologies they didn't really need to offer. She _did_ make sure to tell them they were more than fine to stay as long as they wished and that she'd be downstairs if they needed anything, just to give her a shout as though it was really just like any other day that they would be stopping over for a while and not, _not_.

It helped her feel like she was doing something productive as a host and neither party (Be it adult or teenager alike) would in turn have to worry about keeping up a front for the other half, for the time being at least, and give them all a bit of space to try to cope in whatever small way they can muster. Her own mask remains as strong as her resolve but the cracks are already there she knows, hair thick and ever so vulnerable for just the right push to tear them down entirely and send the cold drink flying true. Absently, she keeps wishing that the occasional shuffle and muffled voices upstairs belong to somebody else far more times than she could count and berates herself constantly with the correction that it's not _him_.

This is partly the reason she had allowed Walter to sit so genially beside her on the sofa shortly after he had gently pressed a fresh coffee into her waiting hands. While an arm round her shoulders when offered was subsequently (And politely) declined, his physical presence however was graciously accepted as the grounding element that it was with knees that are pressed gently against her own. The silence between them feels oddly companionable, even if it does still allow her to think and seethe, and he in turn acts only the utmost respectful in letting her do as she wishes without any attempt to force empty words of comfort into existence. It sits there for a small while longer, enough to give the drink an idle stir, before she risks a quick glance over to the newest rustles coming from the kitchen to see what he's up to now. The changeling had been rather deliberately keeping cautious tabs on him, partly in genuine fear of the cooker and the potential fascination it could cause being discovered though _thankfully_ it looks as though they are still safe as the humble tinned beans are puzzled over instead. After taking a deep breath in the name of steadier nerves, she speaks up.

"Some post rescue reunion we're having, huh?" she asks with only a hint of forced humour.

"I was expected more along the lines of, oh I don't know a few cheesy banners, couple of balloons and maybe witness the results of a stress cooking binge? A bit _less_ on the vanishing sons front, though."

When he remains surprisingly taciturn, she gives him a gentle nudge in the shoulder with her own causing him to startle, turning to look at her with a trace of panic before haphazardly attempting to collect his thoughts back together all the while failing miserably at looking unperturbed.

"Ah, yes, I do suppose we are." He sounds rather distracted which is quite contrary to his usual stoic appearing nature, it makes her frown and gives an incessant need to prod, just a little.

"Hey, are you thinking about what happened? Can't think of much _else_ that might be mulling in that head of yours at the moment, Walter."

The smile is achingly soft and accompanies hands held up in mock defeat at being so blatantly caught in his own musings.

"In a sense I suppose I am. As Emrys' Champion," there is a pause while he discreetly double-checks for where the named is before continuing.

"Whatever it was that ... _occured_ ... would not have been done out of malice for certain, Jim holds his favour far too greatly for that, so it is not that which is bothering me, not particularly. It, hmm, it is in regards to what he did _specifically_ that has been. I have only an inkling that may be only as good as nonsense I'm afraid, nothing particularly useful or verifiable as to what it was and thus the thoughts tumble ever onwards in circles."

"An inkling?"

"Mm, we might not have seen it for very long but that void I suppose you could describe it as? It reminds me of _something_ and I cannot for the life of me remember what it might be. Ah, do forgive me. If it should come back to me I will let you know what it is if it does turn out to be relevant, rest assured," he answers gently. A hesitant hand goes to touch her arm presumably intended as a comforting gesture before it swiftly retreats back into his lap.

"And if it is any consolation at all my dear, however slight it may be, he went in there _knowing_ you were safe."

His expression is utterly sincere, green eyes alight with many unspoken apologies for a something that had long spiralled beyond either of their control and she won't deny it manages to tug at her rather tender heartstrings. His own facade, the one he wears while playing the role of humanity who ghosts her dreams still, has cracks embedded all over that are a mixture of hairline alongside ones far larger than even her own. Through them she is allowed a rare glimpse of the _actor_ hidden behind the need to be stoic and principled for others and it gives her a rather worrying realisation of something that is not quite buried under his pride as a spy/assassin (Spyssassin?), or contempt for the current situation:

_That deep down, he's scared to_

With a sniffle starting up in her nose and the knowledge of what won't be far behind, Barbara decides to quickly give herself a distraction before anything can really get started and pull her into a never-ending spiral. First it is by putting the mug down on the coffee table with a drawn out sigh, next by letting her fingers grip the fabric of her trousers (Still covered in dirt and rusted dust, she should change really but that requires energy she just doesn't have to spare) to ground herself further and finally by silently counting to ten all the while still trying to hold the oncoming tears at bay. Just for a tiny bit longer, she can do it.

"I hope he did, I really do." Her voice barely manages to lift above a whisper.

_Everything is one thing after another after another after yet another with barely a chance to **breathe** in between_

_Jim is in the thick of it_

_... Again ..._

_And what am I doing about it?_

When words begin to on fail her she starts to glare judgingly at her now empty hands that are capable of such such amazing things as help save and heal lives yet are completely incapable of magically fixing everything that has gone so utterly **_wrong_** on her watch. The changeling meanwhile begins to dither and fidget in what best to do in the circumstances without risking personal boundaries with her (Recently blurred) being pushed too far. Tentatively an arm is offered once more and this time it is rewarded by Barbara leaning into his shoulder with barely a second thought and as if she happened to look up she might even catch the traces of blush residing on the very tips of his ears. Inwardly, a small voice tells him that he _has no right to enjoy the moment_ , to which he dismisses bitterly it as this is for _her_ _comfort_ and _her_ _needs_ come first and always whilst holding her a little closer. Anything he may or may not get out of it is simply an unintended bonus.

About the time the wizard _finally_ wanders off back to the garage he had claimed for himself having seemingly becoming bored with the act of so blatantly eavesdropping and poking the modern world for a while, Barbara's hands drop to her lap as poisonous thoughts start to ruminate with dangerous _what ifs_ she would really be better off without. Thus she takes that as the signal to pull away from his embrace, if a little grudgingly perhaps, get up onto her feet and ease herself through the small gap between coffee table and body with an apology or two for more floor space. Freedom re-established, she stretches out awfully stiffened limbs covered in a scattering of yellowing bruises that creak back in annoyance at having being allowed to settle so _comfortably_ after being forced to do without any form of soft furnishings (Or warm bodies) to then just ever so rudely up and leave it.

It is almost enough to allow her a moment to feed herself the lie where everything is normal and that she is not constantly suffocating under weary lungs and an ever-aching heart.

Alas, even the briefest of respites from the world beyond the somewhat age-battered sofa is not allowed to last very long when her gaze happens to catch the glaring absence in the kitchen nor the disturbed letter holder _somebody_ had rather thoughtlessly rummaged through and left some of the former contents all across the long counter. Arms become crossed with frowned irritation as really, couldn't he at least _try_ to put things back properly the once even if it was just to humour her? Age shouldn't be an excuse for basic manners not being properly utilised when the changeling (Still an odd concept, that) manages to go above and beyond so consistently with basic curtsey! It's bad enough it's been a struggle to get to the washing machine since he unceremoniously moved in and probably an even bigger miracle that it hadn't been dismantled as well given his tendency to destroy things. Vespas. _Hearts_. **_People_**.

Worse still, there is something _about_ the assortment of varying pieces of paper (A mixture of bills, contacts, recipes and a few magazine clippings being kept just in case) that reminds of something else that had once sat there with them, the very same of which is currently nestled in her handbag where she could keep it close (Safe) for only her own eyes. Those words it contained have gone and haunted the back of her mind ever since the day she finally relented and looked at what that manila envelope had contained. When she was left with more questions than answers and suspicions that were allowed to build and build as everything started to happen all at once that while she was stuck in a godamn _cage_ , they began to flourish ever stronger whenever she started to fret about what they could possibly be doing to Walter well away from her sight.

 _What if he wasn't?_

_But what if he **was**?_

Maybe it's the vain hope that because the little information she has managed to piece together don't quite add up right nor really point directly towards him that had made her not want to risk having her heart broken all over again by a known liar. Maybe it is the adrenaline from _everything_ still rattling in her bones that makes her want to say fuck it and demand an answer anyway from the only person who might be able to give her a straight one for whatever the HELL must have been going through her son's head when he went and wrote it, the same one who is now _missing_. Maybe it is the need for that one glimmer that could be controlled in an unfurling mess that causes her soul to steel and spirit to blaze stronger.

With an expression hardening she stares holes into the countertop from where she's standing, nails biting into her palms in secret and well out of his sight. This is it, she's gonna do it. It's a struggle to keep her tone neutral but she will endure.

"Hey Walter, did I ever tell you about this weird letter Jim left for me?"

"I cannot say I recall you mentioning one, why?" A brow is raised and curiosity laces his voice. After all, why on earth would the young Trollhunter write a _letter_ of all things in this new grand age of texting, phone calls and email? That same why only becomes more worrisome when the good Doctor waves a hand with a mutter of, one second, before strolling over to the wall-mounted coat rack and starts sifting through the varying garments hanging from it. From the huff in annoyance, whatever it was she was after is apparently not there.

"Dangit it's still in my car - I guess I just forgot." Within a few quick strides she has returned and rather unceremoniously dropped back into the seat ensuring that she is on the bend _away_ from him, hunched over her knees as though deep in thought and refuses to look his way. She's incredibly wary of her determination failing and taking all of her composure with it.

"Sorry I've not got it handy. You're going to have to take my word for it, okay?"

Strickler does not quite know what to make of this developing situation if he were to be honest, nor where perhaps it may be going thus he chooses instead to wordlessly gesture for her to continue, twisting enough to make it all the more clear that she has his complete and undivided attention. The look he gets, however temporary it lasts, is one undoubtedly of appreciation.

"Ages ago or least it feels like it with time being so," her hands move as though trying to grasp for a word that remains stubbornly out of reach then continues forth before he even gets the chance to offer any suggestions to help.

"God it seemed _innocent_ and not all that out of place for him really? Jim had gone all out and made all my favourite foods out the blue one evening and when I asked him why he went and said it was because it'd been so long since we last had dinner together, that we could really talk and I somehow deserved this literal _feast_ he was making. I honestly thought he was buttering me up for something! Then next day, I, I ended up finding a letter addressed to me where I thought a recipe would be when I was looking for something else... I never did open the thing at the time despite how tempted I was to; it just didn't seem right somehow? I can't even remember what was going through my mind it's just a fast-forwarded blur of work being hectic and worrying about bills being due soon if I'm perfectly honest."

Her fingers started to fiddle with the hem of her top a few words back in dire need of something solid to hang onto while she's refusing to move any closer. Thankfully at least he has had the sense to not to try and interrupt, instead listening patiently as ever. It's one of those things he seems to have a natural knack for knowing somehow or at least he does _most_ of the time.

"I finally went and plucked up the courage to read it while you were out on your own errand, the one before their whole misadventures while skipping class on the stupid treasure hunt thing." Hands scrunch even tighter and only then does she look at him, eyes wide and almost pleading with the ghosts of already fallen tears.

"He sounded like he was expecting to never come back home ever again, Walt."

Her voice starts to crack and her expression, _oh that expression_ , it is one only a mother who has dallied with the potential loss of a child could possibly produce and it stabs him so deeply in the chest that for a brief second he questions whether the bond was ever truly was removed from the pair of them. His empty stomach somehow manages to lurch sideways while eyes are set on this poor stricken creature before him who rubs away at her face whilst feeling both literally and figuratively dumbstruck. The very concept of the spoken word feels rancid in his drying throat and he cannot for the life of him think of a single reassurance offered that would ever be enough to make this right. _Could be_ , even.

"That boy, he's been my _entire world_ since his father went and walked out that front door and straight out of our lives without a single backwards glance. The one who loves cooking, helping people out to a fault, adores Gun Robot and was too shy to talk to the girl he's had a crush on since freshman year until that play happened. Now I keep on going back and thinking about all the signs that should have told me something was up, things I should have noticed even _before_ he was attacked in the woods and hell even after that which should have tipped me off that this was far more than an awkward teenager phase. But no, I failed him instead over and over again and my poor baby was hurting so much and wouldn't tell me anything because he didn't want me to worry. Me! His own mother!" A fierce scowl glowers at her knees, fists now balled and tone knife sharp with self-depreciation tempered over their secrets and the bruised anger they caused.

"I know there is still a lot both of you have and are still are keeping from me, leaving me with little more than the scraps like you think I'm so fragile that I would break if I went and anything found out. You know like the incidents _you_ turned into innocent dinner conversation while _he_ went and waved me off or straight up lied with talk of camping while really he was out there fighting for his very _life_."

The sheer discomfort of being so ceremoniously outted must be rather blatantly on show along with the crushing realisation of exactly where this is going now even before a finger is pointed at his chest all judgment and fire. Her gaze only hardens further when it meets his own widening green.

"So I need to know: was it **you** , Walter. Were you the reason he wrote that letter?"

The implication is clear: Honesty as had been promised _or else_.

His initial reaction is to inhale deeply while never daring to let his eyes leave hers in fear of giving the wrong impression and then to hold his hands up in a placating gesture to request for a moment as if trying to gently dissuade a bear from mauling his face off, which given the present circumstances this is perhaps not _that_ unfair a comparison. Still, the accusatory finger is withdrawn while her stare remains completely unflinching. With a somewhat stilted thank you, he speaks up in a surprisingly calm voice that has been honed on many a student or charge over his long centuries and one that belays how fraught his internal processes must be screaming.

"Please forgive my lack of, well, better phrasing but would you happen to have some sort of timeframe when this occurred? I want to ensure I can give you the best answer that I am able to."

That ever so suspicious look returns in blue, checking over his face with the most intensive scrutiny for any trace of the words that are _clearly_ not being said with that way he worded that comment but as he has denied nothing... Alright then, fine. She won't press that one any further or at least not right now.

"It was a little bit before his 16th birthday, I can't give you any more than that." Arms have been crossed with her patience is being both stretched far too tight with the risk of snapping and remaining stubbornly hopeful he won't make her do anything drastic. For added effect, Barbara channels the _look_ all mother's come to know when they need to reinforce a point and it must be doing something right from how the changeling _immediately_ quails, riddled again with those out of place nerves that he feebly attempts to disguise behind a cough. He averts his eyes and fingers begin to fidget for something they do not hold.

"Uhm - ahem. I am afraid there is not a thing I can think of that may have happened around that time that would have caused such a - severe - reaction. Thus I can only conclude that something else must have happened that did not involve the Order, Bular nor myself. Young Atlas and Mister Domzalski _were_ inducted into the existence of trolls around the same time as far as I am aware and I must submit that if anyone might know what caused such a reaction that would be your best option for finding the truth." The longer he speaks the more his words start to regain a little of his natural cadence and certainty without managing to lose the honest air behind them.

Absently she begins to chew her lip while allowing for his words to mull. If he is lying, even slightly assuming he would even dare to, it is being hidden _exceptionally_ well.

"The fact he wrote it at all - Barbara, if you are _ever_ in need someone for moral support or even just to vent to please do remember that I am always all ears and it will never be too stupid or pointless to me. I may not proud of a great many things I have done but **you** have made me want to strive to be better long before I even realised it myself, just as your son gave me the first sign of **hope** after a lifetime largely devoid of any." Being met with a stared silence and nary a hint of what she is thinking about, he takes another deeply unsure breath, letting the worry reside on his brow and a offers a hand without any expectation of anything in return.

"When the land is swallowed by churning seas and fears eclipse reality; know that I'm here and here I will ever be. No cafe required."

The only conclusion she can grasp for hurtles closer and closer until hits her like a freight train behind widening eyes:

_He really is telling the truth_

_Whatever it was, it **wasn't** him_

Just like that, the bubbling anger buoyed by all her worst fears, the _potential_ of yet another rug being ripped from under her feet and the overwrought emotions seep from her bones. First it is by a whisper, then a growing torrent that pours ever outwards until the very last dregs of the fight or flight energy from _running for their lives_ finally peters out leaving her feeling ever so chilled and strangely wobbly. Suppressing the need for an out of place shiver, she quickly grasps the hand as leverage and uses it to haul herself close enough to cuddle into his side quite like she had always belonged there and he being little more than a human (?) pillow for her comfort. She manages to not so subtly lace their fingers together too.

The tone manages to remain neutral in a gentle warning despite the sheer relief and thoughts trying to process against the important follow up question, _but then who did_? 

"I'll hold you to it, Mr. Strickler."

"You believe me then?" His hand holds her own a touch tighter, a subtle giveaway for the ever prevailing nerves while accompanying a hopeful voice. It cannot be _quite_ seen on his face because of how her back has pressed into his now pinned shoulder but he is distinctly of a redder complexion than usual from the suddenness as much as the new position they appear to have gone and found themselves in.  
  
"I want to, I truly do." The reply is somewhat muffled by the fact she is still trying to settle more comfortably despite an elbow that is rather stubbornly in the way. She won't need to elaborate what will happen if such tenuous faith in him is ill-tested from anytime soon to ever.

_Not if, it is to me_

The initial stiffness at the sudden contact slowly begins to wane for that of long lost familiarity, like an anchor holding strong in an ongoing storm that is their lives which nobody wants to think about for too long lest it strike the deck and force them to confront the recent loss for it will all hurt too much. Listening to the innocent sounds of her soft breathing, his own thoughts are allowed to drift into temporary contentment and perhaps even the _hope_ of a chance at amends, a selfish distraction perhaps, but one that feels rather necessary in present circumstances. You take what you can and hold it closely before it is stolen away by a world that feels as though it has no real desire for any goodness in it anymore, not for changelings certainly. There's still been no time to mourn.

This lull is allowed to last a few more of those endless seeming minutes and it seemed almost tragic to say something to ruin it but silence lets you _think_ and that is far too dangerous to allow thus she hunts for something perhaps a little too close to worry but also not quite to act as a distraction. With only the hope he is okay with rolling with it if a little less _clumsily_ than her own attempts at trying to start a new conversation, she goes forth.

  
"You know, back when I was still pretty oblivious about everything Jim actually tried to warn me about you. I went and blew him off thinking he was just being a grumpy teen about a new man being in his life, even if it _was_ a teacher of his. Shows what I knew huh? He was right, down to calling you two-faced." Peeking upward she can make out him leaning his head back to groan ever so dramatically making her grin only grow wider. It feels a little like an in-joke they had between them that only recently she'd been invited in to appreciate as well.

"Oh, that wording was not accidental _at all_ was it? Deserved perhaps but a bit too on the nose for my liking though I absolutely must applaud his excellent wordplay." 

"Nope! Next time we all have dinner together I will be wanting some insurance that there will be less cutlery missing afterwards, _I found a fork outside I'll have you know_ , or anything embedded into random surfaces. I'm kinda leaning towards you being the culprit for that one specifically _because_ of that throwing hand of yours. I'm sure you can both handle a civil rivalry if you really tried." The pout is somewhat undermined by the sheer mirth in her eyes and thus he responds in kind with a somewhat amused, ah guilty!

"Cross my heart, I will swear to you that there will be no further additions to the Battle of Duelling Knives whenever you happen to look the other way. I _think_ it is rattling in here somewhere anyway, a very particular Doctor went and stole it at some point back and, come to think of it, I don't believe I was ever given a refund nor a receipt for my troubles?"

"Ooh ho did they now? I can check for you if you like, free of charge. I have all the required credentials if you need to check them over first."

"Ah now, see I have been rather _reliably_ informed that it is important to trust the medical professionals on these matters, as such I don't think they'd be any need for that." He sounds playful with a perfect hint of flirt to round it off behind half lidded eyes. He then offers her a rather apologetic smile, inclining his head slightly to the side.

"Alas, I cannot say the same for certain wandering third parties who may be far more objectionable to any proper examinations."

"Drat, I was hoping pretending he didn't exist might make him finally disappear for good," she huffs indignantly, letting his warmed hand go free.

His response is to simply laugh and only does so even harder when she pokes him in the side in mock disgruntlement for it. It almost feels wrong in how everything still feels so _natural_ , like a relationship that never got chance to wither under secrets and deliberate mistruths or the newer tension caused by second guessing his own words that seems to chew away erratically at his confidence. Ah, how her all too soft heart _aches_ for these snatches of a lost and much more humbler seeming time of wine, pleasantries and genuine banter between them and how easy they seem to slip back into it without warning or even meaning to.

Maybe when things are allowed to calm down some and Jim is **home** again, they could even start over? Try and create brand new memories and find out what a world is truly worth? The idea has tantalising appeal, horns, strange skin, glowing eyes and all.

It could even start with a humble olive branch being offered.

"Heeey Walt? I have a stupid question but please do as you said and humour me. Being stuck down there gave me way too much time to think about a lot of things, not that you really need me to tell you that," she says with an air of casual. About Jim, about himself, everything he's done and caused, about this whole giant M E S S determined to pull her entire known reality into it kicking and screaming all the way.

"So, what was with all the big cages underground? When I came to I was terrified I was going to fall through it even before any of the other craziness started happening! I thought they only existed as film props and not... something that were an actual _thing_. The chains hanging from the ceiling just added to the whole cheesy horror flick look they had going on down there."

"It is _hardly_ a stupid question, Barbara, but to answer you though I will admit I prefer human prisons in that sense as they have far better flooring," he answers, gently pressing ever so slight into her shoulder for lack of a hand to reassure with at present.

"So, should I be concerned at all that you have enough experience to be able to compare the two then?" Her eyes have narrowed suspiciously with a betraying quirked lip and it does not fade when he merely chuckles good naturedly in return.

"In this case, I would say not particularly? Occasionally being in the wrong place wrong time can also mean you get swept up in the toppling of your now _former_ employer as can be so when it comes to revolutions and the like. In regards to trolls specifically, you may recall some of us are not particularly _welcomed_ so I cannot say it was entirely unexpected during the previous Trollmarket excursion that you were with me -" he looks as though he is about to add something further from the crinkle on his forehead but swiftly decides against it by continuing on through another subject.

"Being designed for trolls as they are does not lend all that well to the more lighter built species and would never have come up in more common circumstances. The height alone seems to be enough of a dissuasion from escape, though I do recall spying a few gnomes in one which is rather impressive all things considered. They are quite the biters you see."

"It worked way too well! God I'm going to have full blown nightmares of falling for months I swear, I didn't even start with a fear of heights but now, poof! It probably has enough material to turn into a whole _thing_." The flinch that happens beside her is not missed nor how he pointedly looked away.

"The stalklings did somewhat _ruin_ the moment, it is true." Strickler's voice is quieter, tinged once more with uncertainty and a furrowed brow. His body language slowly begins to hunch onto its self and it's all the more than clear he would much rather look anywhere else, _be anywhere else_ , and not think of that horrifying moment that miraculously ended with the crunching of metal and not of flesh and bone, nor of the hatred borne from a formerly imprisoned Warlord that did not draw his blade with idle intent. Fingers gently touch his and the contact makes him turn like clockwork to discover wondrous blue watching him that only become more intense the longer they lock with his own green. He dares not blink lest this spell being cast breaks then and there.

"And I'm still here to be traumatised and even complain about it because of **you**."

It takes more than a moment or two to process these words to which he merely manages to stare back wide eyed. What could he be thinking, she wonders? He had admitted before in vague words at least that being a survivor will never make a good person out of you because those types are always the first to die, you simply cannot be when there are hungering monsters awaiting in the dark and around every corner for their chance at a free meal. Perhaps it will be how he managed to do what could only be described by all parties as _the right thing_ when it came down to it? Not to gain anything out of it but because that alone was _enough_ in spite of a learned and ingrained nature that gives such pause to that silver tongue of his.

Hell, she could swear by the fact she catches a mutter secreted under his breath, the words sounding suspiciously like _someone who can change_ , that suggests something and it takes another exhale for an appreciative expression to bloom alongside a small (Thankful, even) smile as though he had never _really_ had uttered a single thing.

"That you are my dear. You will have to forgive me in that I do not particular want a repeat of, well, much of the past 24 hours if it is quite the same to you."

"You're acting as if _nothing_ good managed to sneak in that timeframe too, Walt."

She mouths the words, _keep swimmer_ and then promptly sticks her tongue out in a truly petulant gesture but one far more effective than any words could have managed in their place given his now incredulous face. Perhaps rather childishly, particularly for one of his age, his response is to do the same thing straight back and quite swiftly the entire charade breaks out into innocent giggling, playful shoves particularly from her and absolutely terrible voice impressions of their former captors that causes the laughter to ring out again and again. Strickler naturally has a very unfair advantage, even putting his natural theatrical tendencies aside, but he concedes that she can put even the great Skullcrusher's glare to shame.

Their voices began to peter out again after a time and as surprising luck would have it, the wizard had not yet returned to bother them or any other household object for that matter much to their shared relief. It does make something _else_ occur to her however and thus she starts to frantically check the few pockets she has for her phone and comes up worryingly empty.

"I swear I better not have lost it! Ugh, do you know what time is it, Walter? I didn't even notice how dark it's gotten with everything ... everythinging." Barbara lets out a frustrated noise while gesturing with her hands for lack of a better word to use. It does at least seem to be enough for him to figure out what she might mean however as the device in question in question is quietly offered from where he'd squirreled into his jacket pocket. Taken with a very grateful thank you she is more than a little surprised at the lack of obvious screen damage then lets out a groan at how they are marching ever onwards towards midnight within the hour or so. She vaguely recalls the sun setting but it shouldn't be this late, surely?

"Fairly late by my reckoning even if I cannot be as exact, the last of the light _was_ fading when your drink became cold after all."

She lets out a snort at that while quickly sifting through any awaiting messages before pocketing her phone lest it pull a second disappearing act down the back of the sofa.

"And what a waste of a good coffee that was, you even remembered which is my favourite mug," she answers leaning forward to poke the vessel in question distinctly sporting _A wise doctor once wrote:_ followed by something completely illegible to him.

"Though you did forget the all important biscuit. Did you know that the chocolate covered ones give even more brownie points?"

Possibly a good thing she cannot see him roll his eyes at that though he does put a concerned hand onto her shoulder.

"If I may, I have noticed you've been bringing up food a few times now and given recent events, am I correct in guessing you might be feeling a little bit famished?"

The theatrical groan he receives probably answers that question rather nicely.

"Maybe I am a little, but it's a bit late really for setting off the smoke alarm and I promised the neighbours a few years ago I wouldn't do anything after nine. We uh kinda had a string of incidents and I doubt they've forgiven me for yet." There is a grudging sigh and she pokes at the mug again causing the text to wobble away.   
"We're a bit low on things too with making extra for the past few days, I was going to do a top-up shop and grab some extras Jim wanted on my next day off but well, we saw how _that_ went."

Deciding to seize the moment, she goes to scoop up the ice-cold coffee in one hand and head for the kitchen sink, head already filling with the idea of maybe they could get away with a sandwich or two if there was still some bread left over in the bin. _Usually_ sudden late-night snacks wouldn't be so much of a problem but lately is anything but that and everything has rapidly fallen behind as a result.

"I was going to suggest takeout, actually? I suspect if I touched anything other than the kettle in your kitchen, well I'm quite sure young Atlas would find some way to astral project into it for encroaching on his domain and all. I already had my knife privileges revoked, _plus_ he did not like the idea of me touching the mini grill particularly as I recall, I don't want to seemingly flaunt the truce lines the second he cannot keep an eye on me."

A pause by the dining table to give him a mildly quizzical look only gets an one a picture of sheer innocence back.

"Somehow he would still get wind of it, stranger things _have_ managed to happened even without any magic being involved."

_Oh now there's definitely a story there, another thing for the growing list to ask about when things are a lot calmer_

"Hm, we-ell assuming somewhere is still open at this hour I wouldn't say no to the idea? I'll ask the kids what they want first though, I know Toby at least will vote for some form of Mexican but I'm not quite sure what sort of food Claire likes and goodness knows when _they_ last had anything. Then we can start tracking one down that's willing to deliver."

"No no, it would be better as pickup to avoid any unwelcome outbursts from - " the changeling makes a vague gesture towards the direction of the garage as though worried directly mentioning the wizard might just get his attention somehow.

"The walk will hardly do me any harm and if you could be so kind as to lend me your keys, I can even kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

"This mean you're up and leaving me all alone on wizard babysitting duty for an hour or two huh." She's eyeing him again with arms crossed and side leaning against the table though her expression still speaks of her good humour.

"Hopefully far less than that and regardless I will be as quick as I can, rest assured. Might I point out that you can always give _him_ leftovers afterwards if you feel at all indulgent instead of having to explain the concept of fast food or risk him rifling in the perishables again?"

The _look_ she shoots him turns him ever so sheepish for even suggesting the idea, once more quickly hidden behind a cough.

" _Not even close_."

Quickly he is up upon his feet and slinking around and away from the coffee table, to patiently wait for his next instructions and hope that look is redirected soon, hands folded carefully behind his back. Internally he is already starting to arrange some form of plan with one or two just in case contingences in regards to travel options to and from.

"... Of course. Ah, while you're up there could you please ask Miss Nuñez if I may trouble her for a small favour? I'd ask myself but I'm not entirely sure how my standing is with the pair of them presently and I'd rather not come across as accidentally antagonistic."

He gifts her with little more than a care-worn smile in reply to her quirked brow, one distinct in refusing to divulge any of it's secrets.

~~~

Grieving, he decides, is trying to hold it together for yourself as much as anyone else while knowing that at any moment the final straw could come along and make everything come crashing down.

To the outside world it might have seemed morbid, maybe even a bit scandalous? Or whatever word would be more fitting for how you're meant to define this current train wreck and what they plan to do. There had been a little unspoken detour when the pair of them had first headed upstairs that has now left them standing here outside a very particular closed door where the recent echoes of their bangs and their pleading that _he_ _didn't leave them again_ still haunts the otherwise silent hallway. There is nothing that could change their current reality, they _know_ Jim wouldn't _actually_ be waiting for them while complaining how weird magic can be before launching into fussing over them for causing them to worry, but they still needed to see it with their own eyes. The it being the very last thing that many any sense before he had completely disappeared without a trace.

Hand in hand they each grip the other's tightly while Toby pulls together every bit of determination and resolve he can possibly muster before gingerly pushing the bathroom door open. In true horror film fashion, it decides to slowly creak open for that added tension to eventually reveal little more than the failing twilight coming through the window making the thick covering of shadows deeper and the already small space feel even more utterly **void** of life.

It was uncalled for quite frankly and it's very hard to suppress the shiver it induces in him.

"Jeez doesn't feel like five minutes since it was still light out, it's _seriously_ upping the creepy vibes going on in here."

Claire gets a small mumble of agreement while he reaches around the frame to pat for the light switch that has decided to be rather stubborn and hide from his fingers. It must be telling about his nerves in how he doesn't even feel the desire to make a "let there be light!" joke to accompany the sudden brightness when he finally manages to hit the stupid thing from the way his hand is gently squeezed and how she's looking at him concerned. He simply waves back for a second to say he's fine really and rubs the back of his neck though a touch embarrassed from the red on his cheeks. It always feels kinda weird to be on the receiving end given _he's_ usually the go to support guy for like everything? But also not ... all that _bad_ either, not when it's Claire (Or Jim, won't deny that one) anyway. It's nice.

Being so caught up in his befuddled brain that he is, Toby doesn't even realise that Claire has even moved until suddenly his hand has become empty and, as stupid as it sounds, his immediate reaction is to start to _internally_ _panic_ until he spots her innocently tracing fingertips along the rim of the bath with an expression hanging somewhere between worried and grim acceptance completely unaware. Mentally goes and Toby berates himself for jumping straight to the worst case scenario when _she's right there if you just looked you doofus_ , he quickly joins her in peering into the distinctly empty porcelain that contains little more than a few traces of water of what had once occupied it. He's about to say something (Witty) when she beats him to it.

"You'd never think _anything_ happened in there, it just looks all-"

"Normal?"

She doesn't say anything back, merely nods instead and seems incredibly reluctant to do anything other than burn holes into the thing that went and swept Jim away while brushing away some hair as she does. With a hmm, he goes between looking at her and then at where she's staring confused while trying to figure out what's so special that she can't look away from it, or that is at least until he happens to catch the large mirrored cabinet staring ominously at the back of their heads - Oooo, ooh right. Yep that'll do it, no wonder she won't budge.

"You know I think a couple bulbs went 'n blew, not the main one which is kinda weird, but that was it? With how crazy pants we've seen magic be I thought they'd be a few more signs of _something_ going on in here but it's like everything cleaned up after it's self for the first time ever," he adds with a shrug before taking on a really blatant thinking pose and tapping his chin dramatically.

"Shame it can't do that more often. Who do you file complaints to for "magic trashed my house, what do I do" anyway? I'd have said Merlin before but wrecking the place seems to be his business card motto."

He _knows_ she thinks this gesture is cute, she had told him once before when they were both ridiculously sleep deprived and as close to sober drunk as you can physically get. Hopefully it can help out right now and he's making sure to watch for any ensuing reaction juuuust out of the corner of his eyes while trying not be too obvious about it. The small yet thankful look she's wearing now suggests a positive hit for plan mirror distraction, sweet!

"Aside from thaaaat though I think the only thing out of place was his phone, I guess didn't want to get soaked which fair, and that jar Mr. S took? I'm not sure but it _might_ have been the we caught the lightning in, which I'll have you know that entire day was pretty wild and I'm still not really over any of it."

"Toby, that was _literally_ yesterday." She's turned enough to set her eyes on him that say pure fond exasperation despite the opposing stern hand on hip.

"Listen, Claire. At this point we're in the twilight zone where days lost any meaning ever since we went and horked a wizard out of a death nap and all nights started blurring into one non-stop rollercoaster of sucktitude. I have no idea what day we're on right now I'm just winging it and hoping for the best quite frankly."

"God, you're not wrong, I've been setting up phone alerts after I nearly walked into the wrong class. I was absolutely _convinced_ it was just a really weird looking Thursday until Mar went and stopped me from having double English Comprehension on a whim."

"And this is another great example of just why _you_ are the smart one of our party," he replies all light teasing.

"Moi however, I'm just lucky I've not fallen asleep in Senor Uhl's class yet. Think my body has it out for me even more than everything else does which is impressive all things considered."

There is a quiet hummed sound in response and she's now holding her sides so tightly it could well be a death grip if she's not too careful. It's _probably_ the cold in here what with the heating having long gone off, she _had_ said this weird chilled feeling kinda came and went of late which is freaky but she had at least been straight forward about that one, _or_ it's the worry eating away and neither is a particularly good thing. Thus he starts to fidget a little wondering if now is a good time to bring up a thought that's been keeping him awake even longer these past few nights and this newest fiasco is only amplifying it. He can't be the only one, right? Thinking things are maaaybe a little too convenient for somebody but never ever for them? It'd be a bad subject chance sure but kinda sorda be something? Uuuugh you know what, screw it let's yolo or whatever.

"So bit left field but hear me out here. I kinda think that _maybe_ some particular persons who won't be named might have gone and lied about what those spell ingredients were really for? Like, setting us all up from the start? Because I really don't think whatever the hell this was exactly is what he went and sold us on when we had to break into school."

In the split second it takes him to blink He's being stared at with eyes narrowed in cold suspicion and ho boy if that was at him, he'd probably would have just held his hands up and strolled out the room as man that's a _if looks could kill_ look right there jeez.

"Me too. You know, I'm actually starting to wonder what _else_ he might straight up lied to us all about."

~~~

Everything reconvenes once more with a sharp rapt of an improvised gavel upon the desk Toby is currently seated and a suitably commanding voice for the proceedings.

"I now bring this Trauma Bonding Group session to order!"

"We are _not_ calling it that TP."

"Now now, we need a name and unless you got something better, all ears by the way, this is what we've having. We're like the three musketeers of terrible decision making and the biggest culprit," Toby pauses to gesture to the powered down phone in his hand.

"Is why we have this support group in the first place."

"Hey mine aren't _that_ bad!"

"Uh huh. We like you better when you're not going all mega spooky and trying to stab us, _particularly_ Jim, with cutlery and sucking your living room furniture into who knows where."

Claire groans in a fashion only a teenager could possibly muster, lifting up her feet enough to let the backwards facing chair ever so slowly meander around. It doesn't prevent her seeing Toby's amused face appearing in her peripheral in the slightest mind but she feels better for it.

"Fiiine, not _all_ of them."

"And just to make sure everything stays in proper balance; I vote me going mad with gaggletack power and nearly dying at the dentist which was absolutely _not_ awesome sauce. Neither was the cleaning up afterwards either, that just plain sucked."

"You two really did wing everything and hoped for the best before I joined up, huh? Never told me about that one." She's looking at him curiously with a quirked brow and inwardly he curses because wow that must sound hella weird out of context. 

"To be fair it _did_ kinda involve my former dental hygienist who I thought was always super nice until she was trying to torture me with dental tools after outting herself as changeling." He sounds a bit more embarrassed, maybe even whiney, than he really intends to. He _did_ like her though, he won't lie and in comparison the newer one feels more like he's going through the motions until he can clock out for the day.

"Plus she might have exploded? It's nooot exactly something you bring up as casual dinner conversation."

"Yikes?"

Toby shrugs while letting his back slump a little against the wall. It's weird to think now there was a Before Time when Claire hadn't been sucked into this world quite yet, thought Jim was a flake and he was little more than the background bestie as he generally appears to be to the world at large limboing under the social radar. The concept of her not being in the thick of it with them right now or ever really doesn't quite sit right thinking about it? It's kinda like there was _always_ someone missing in their group but they had no real idea about it until she was actually there with them and he went and let his petty jealously get the better of him like an idiot. God he can't apologise enough for that one, he was a jerk and there's noooo getting round it.

"You know I'm really glad you joined the team, Claire. _No really I mean it don't look at me like that_. We were complete and absolute disasters! I mean still are but, you saved us so many times and I don't think I'd have coped without you when we lost Jim - Last time, I mean." Toby doesn't add the, because we gonna trek this stupid ass road again apparently, he won't need to.

"Mean let's face it I was barely functioning _with_ you here, I'd have probably become an even bigger recluse or just decided screw it and moved into Troll Market full time to camp out in the vault. Heck I'd have willingly give up my breakfast burritos to prove my dedication if I had to!"

Claire... at times can be a little hard to read or at least for him. _Sure_ he can tell if she's genuinely happy or sad okay but every now and then it's like it's ever so slight that he really can't quite tell what is in going on in that head of hers and this is definitely one of those times. It's got a melancholy but not quite vibe going and doesn't really change much when her gaze drifts from him over to the empty bed, made as ever by Jim when he'd woken up that very morning. His own heart begins to twist as normally she'd be sitting there, sometimes with a pillow held to her chest ready to toss at one of them while calling them dorks or when she's having a particularly bad day, Jim taking up residence in the chair to be able to spin easy between the two and yours truly being in his usual spot here as everything is for tall people not short legs and damnit he's getting some height. But she had said she didn't have the heart to right now, not when it meant having the very same chair staring at her and reminding how their trio had transformed into a mere _duo_ again.

He doesn't blame her at all, the empty seat was seriously wigging him out when they came in.

It all harkens back to those awful evenings and weekends that they spent in here if downstairs wasn't an option, stuck as they were having to play pretend at being Jim, doing homework together, sharing poorly made snacks that were often on the burnt side of crispy and weeping on one another's shoulders when they were sure Dr. L. couldn't hear them. It was like this one little space Claire didn't have to keep up the doting girlfriend to a fake in an attempt to help their little double-act so his mother would be remain none the wiser that her son was secretly trapped in troll hell with no way out. It made his heart scrunch in guilt at how every time she _had_ to do it, it was like _betraying_ Jim despite none of it was even really real, just an elaborate performance and one where he couldn't help getting flustered whenever she kissed him on the cheek. It probably added to the authenticity though, come to think of it.

When they had told him what they'd done, Jim said he understood _and it was all fine and there was no need to worry because I trust you guys_. His gut felt all queasy anyway even knowing that and the fact it _was_ before he was dating Darci so wasn't exactly any conflict of interests there! It was one very weird situation for everyone involved and none of it has helped any of these weird feelings he's had about it (Them) since those couple of weeks that have remained bundled up inside and he's still not quite sure what to make of them even now much further down the line.

_He'll never tell either of them about it though, nope, nuh uh_

"At least last time we knew exactly where he was."

The sudden voice nearly makes him jump despite how quietly mumbled the words are and how it sounds as exhausted as she is starting to look, chin pressed into her folded arms over the chair back. They're all holding together pretty terribly no matter how well everything is trying to pretend to do otherwise. Maybe a bit of a good old-fashioned mood lightener is in order...

"Man you know if this was a cartoon this is probably about when it would do a cut to show Jim having zany adventures with a talking animal sidekick guide. Like some sort of bird maybe? Oh, oh I know a hamster! With lasers and a top hat, yeah I can picture him running around with a hamster he _did_ seriously get into Hamtaro for a bit even if he'd deny it if you ever want to jump on that... Um w-what?"

She rounded on him so fast, staring so harshly with hands clenched into fists and even worse it looks like she might even cry. Crap _crap_ that's not the reaction he was going for!

" _Toby_." His name is stated so bitterly his eyes go wide in worry about putting his feet in it even more if he so much as breathes.

"Are you seriously joking about all, _all this_ , right now?"

Dragging a slightly sweaty palm down his face (Ew, note to self don't do that again) with a groan he takes a deep breath and puts the phone onto the desk if starting to fidget with his now unoccupied hands as a result. Her own expression remains scarily unwavering while the words he wants to say are struggling to put themselves together right and it takes a couple of fits and starts before he finally manages to get himself going.

“Auuugh, look this is gonna sound super stupid I know. I mean I really am kinda internally freaking out right now even if it doesn't look it but because I’ve got no outlet or way to process anything so everything ends up jumbled and coming out all weird? The guy I’ve known since we were _five_ disappeared in his own house, we’ve got a living legend that threatened to eat me downstairs who refuses to help, the literal apocalypse could show up at any minute and and we-” He has to give himself a minute as his shoulders slump down further. Great now _he_ feels like crying too, his nose is getting all gross and somehow everything manages to feel more **real** when you have to try to say your worst thoughts out loud. He still can’t risk looking at her and instead rubs away at his eyes in hopes it might stop them.

“We really can’t… actually do anything until he lets us, can we? Last time it was just a case of figuring out the _how_ but this time we don’t even know where the heck we’re supposed to start! All I really want right now is my Wingman to just hug me and tell us somehow it’ll all work out, y'know? Even if it means telling them we went and **lost** Jim the second they left us alone for five minutes so they can join us in the whole freaking out party, I'd absolutely do it for that.”

Toby is not ashamed to admit how much he's now hardcore sniffling. It does make him _more than a little_ distracted, very self-conscious about how it probably looks and thus manages to miss the slow creaking, spin and roll of the chair entirely. The first indication he gets that anything went and moved is when a pair of arms snake around his body to hug him close and tight. His little surprised squeak was very manly he'll have you know and he will not hear of anything otherwise!

"I'm no Krubera troll but I think even _I_ can manage a pretty mean hug when it's needed," she says softly while giving him an extra apologetic squeeze. While a little bewildered, he shoots her a smile back with redder eyes then he'd walked into here with and she loosens her grip enough so that he can reach out and grab a tissue being a sleeve ends up as a snotty victim.

"M'sorry TP, I shouldn't have snapped at you. I just-"

"...Same boat?"

"Yeah, same _stupid_ boat."

With a quick sorry! before blowing his nose, he wipes his face down with the edges then makes to toss for the waste-bin while trying not to twist too much. By a minor miracle, it actually lands in. Jim would be proud.

"Well mines got a liddle pirate flag if you want it, doesn't do anything but it looks kinda cool?"

"I decided to go with Papa Skull logo naturally, I want to go down in style."

"Aah, a true lady of culture and good taste. An excellent choice."

They stay like that for a few minutes with little more than the sound of breathing and drumming of hearts beating to stop everything becoming a _nothing_ while any words are absent. It unfortunately does have the side effect of making unwanted memories start to stir in his head that he cannot say he's particularly fond of that whole idea, though surprisingly it's _Claire_ who speaks up before he has the chance to try and put a stop to the flashes of loss and near misses. Her chin is nestled on his shoulder right now and his face feels a little warm on that side but he really doesn't want to move from the small comfort it's offering.

"You two are really close aren't you?" She asks so gently, still holding him close which is making him burn up even more and God hopefully she won't notice and he won't end up going full on tomato.

"I've not known either of you anywhere near as long but it's pretty obvious to anyone, you're practically glued to the hip and always there for each other when it counts."

"Well personally _I_ like to think we're close too, Nuñez, not just as teammates either." He's not entirely sure how he managed to say that with a straight face given how they are right now or make a nervous crack about it but he did it. It's also a bit hard to really fist bump from this angle too but he holds up a hand for it anyway with a smile and she manages to clumsily tap it back in return.

"Right back at ya, TP."

Vaguely he recalls Claire saying the words, we _protect each other_ , at some point and thinks it might have been Jim related somehow but he's not quite sure in the haze of everything. Still, wherever it came from originally it keeps on proving true and he wouldn't really change it for the world? It's strange to think once his little world was just him and Nana, grew to include Jim and his mom, then his wingman and Blinky, kinda sorda Chompsky and countless others until this path eventually opened up for Claire to join in his weird little orbit too. If anybody told him one of the popular girls in school would eventually be one of his besties and dating his _other_ bestie he'd have laughed at them, stopped, then laughed some more. Past self would have flipped about Darci too _and_ _that's a point Eli still owes him 5 bucks_...

_Oh shoot getting a little distracted here_

"Besiiiide _s_ Jim knows as his designated best friend it is my solemn and most noble duty that if he gets himself killed I get to go Ghostbusters on his ass in punishment. Since I've got that one covered you might need to come up with your own thing so we don't get any payback conflicts."

"Makes sense, what would you do to me?"

"Hm that's a tough one. Maybe break into your room, locker, wherever, and sell all your Papa Skull merch on ebay? That feels a fitting reason to kinda not," he says tilting his head back just enough to peer at her amused expression and point at her sternly.

"No seriously **don't**. We already had the jumping into things you shouldn't, near drowning _and_ the portal craziness top of my head alone can you please stop trying to start a tally to rival Jim's."

A grin.

"Ebay huh."

"Well yeah? I'd even put it at a low price if I was feeling _particularly_ vindictive so don't you go testing me. I'll even get Not Enrique to rat out where you hide the best stuff!"

"If _that's_ the case let's see, how about I put all your video games up for sale in a yard sard on your front lawn, maybe even add a sign with "free to a good home" for the rarest ones?" The horrified gasp only makes her grin even wider.

"Don't you dare or I'm teaming up with Jim's ghost to haunt you!"

"Better hope you manifest as a poltergeist then Toby, because I'm already thinking of what to do to my lovely little future victims because I know where they all live~"

They stare at one another for a beat, then a second before both burst out laughing. It feels like the hardest they've even been _allowed_ to in weeks.

They'd separated from their impromptu and extended hug after a little while, a bit more red faced particularly in his case and aching from their combined laughter between further teasing about specific targets they were intended to sell to one up the other with. In comparison, Jim would be getting off pretty lightly it turns out but that being mostly because the few things he ever bought for himself tended to be for the kitchen and nobody sane would risk invoking a cook's wrath in the name of free loot. The chair was backwards (Again, it does not look comfortable to him sitting like that) though back where it should be and the phone is now sitting on his knee out of mild paranoia if he took his eyes off the thing it might poof out of existence on them. Many a sordid tale has been heard of tablet pens doing it and he wasn't about to take any chances on that now.

Letting out a hum, Claire motions to the window beside him.

"Hey, shouldn't you close the curtains? It's getting pretty dark out."

"What? Oh, uh that right. Nooo can do with that one I'm afraid."

She gives him a look.

"You can't close curtains." It's not a question but a statement.

"Well yeah _normally_ I could but not these particular ones! No no you're gonna listen first then you can judge me," he says wagging a finger her direction.

"So, waaaay back when we were kids Jim used to stay over a lot whenever Dr. L was on night shifts or pretty wiped out from placement which had the added bonus of still being pretty close by, yeah? And I can’t remember what started it in the first place, Jim might do, he had this whole _thing_ about monsters would try to move in and replace him - I know right? - if he wasn't in here to prevent it happening so they put their heads together and set up a system. She'd make sure to leave his curtains open so he could see across the lot and the lights from outside would scare them all away before they could try anything." Toby pauses, looking a little wistfully out the window to where his own bedroom window lay.

"Over time it kinda turned into a little reminder that she was thinking about him even while he wasn’t here. He might not even see it right now or even if he _can_ do but it’ll do him good if he did, y’know? It'd mean an awful lot."

_And sometimes it's the littlest things you need most of all_

Claire makes a thoughtful sound at that and he can hear the creak of the chair right at the edge of his hearing from her leaning further forward though the sadness in her voice is much clearer.

"That's a really cute tradition. You're right though, better to leave it just in case." She lets the chair rock a little to the left, then to the right while absently watching a cat that has decided to bravely stroll on the pavement outside oblivious to the concept of trolls running around out there.

"Ugh, what should we do about tomorrow anyway? We've still gotta somehow go out there super early and pretend-"

"Everything is "okay" and we're not hurtling towards the end of the world on top of it, yeah. It sucks big time."

"God I don't know how I'm supposed to even _think_ about school and regular teenager stuff when Jim is-"

They are interrupted by a sharp knock on the door which is enough to make poor Toby jump while Claire spins the chair around by kicking out a heel wondering what the mystery person might be after. They are given no real chance to ask who before Dr. Lake cracks it open enough to look inside and ask what sort of food they'd like to order in whilst she tries ever so hard to not to let her eyes drift to the cool night that lays just beyond the glass lest she becomes teary eyed in front of the two of them.

After the door clicks shut behind her however, she can no longer hold back any of the broken sobs that have built more and more since that fateful moment behind another door further down the hall and all the tears start to fall.

~~~

Perhaps they should have seen it coming or have even been more suspicious before **it** happened. The signs were there after all that something wasn't quite right plain for all to see yet none of them did, not really, because if being in this world of trolls the has taught the humans anything is that _you've got to have hope_ and they were not quite ready to give theirs up yet, the one that said somehow things were going to work out. Plus the other rather more pressing matter of needing food that was edible, if contained in humble polystyrene, for the many starved may have proved more than a bit distracting. The initial bounty that had been emptied onto plates had been ravenously devoured and picked clean to the very last crumb.

That said there were a few edible survivors, miraculously, that had been safely squirreled away in the safety of the kitchen. Walter Strickler _may_ have abused having a car for transportation a tad and gone a little overboard in what he picked up to ensure there would have been something for everyone while happily helping the chain offload anything for the rather scant customer base the particularly late hour was causing. These included some extra churros, cinnamon twists and ice cream designated specifically **for Barbara only** thank you very much and hopefully hidden enough from any potential prying hands. It was partly apology snacks too, he won't lie.

It was a risk with the wizard running around of course, but given the fascination with the fridge light of all things odds are reasonable enough that it is one he was quite willing to take.

In the meantime soft conversation is uttered between the three other residents of the household sitting around on the sofa, some of whose eyes ring red or puffy, who are mostly sticking to more harmless topics like the school year finishing up soon and keeping well away from either elephant in the room both the one physically here and the one not. Some of the (Refilled) plates had migrated from the dining table with them and the kids aren't exactly above stealing fries from one another the very second the other takes their eye off the packet. After yawning for the fourth time, a coffee is pressed into her hands once more which is taken with openly exhausted relish, ever determined to stay up as long as it damn well takes for whatever is meant to be happening about now. He takes his position back beside her, trying to catch up with the latest goings on and what Uhl had done to his precious office space in his absence.

Moving his piano? Honestly, he loves that instrument. How very dare he.

Merlin had departed from his stolen "room" not long after sustenance had been brought back to the Lake household much to great annoyance of all. Surprisingly however is the fact that instead of interfering with everything he could touch as he had done before, he had _instead_ taken up a newer residence as a sentinel (Or gargoyle according to two people in particular in sneaky whispers) whom stands by the window at the bottom of the stairs seemingly awaiting for something in particular to happen. Otherwise he'd shown very little interest in the unusual foods nor remotely humouring them with an explanation as to what exactly he's up to any more than he had done so before.

It is then what makes it such a surprise when _Toby_ of all of them after twenty minutes of this going on nervously wanders over to leave a "sacrificial offering" in the form of a quesadilla in the name of basic household civility when everyone else seemed content enough to leave him to starve. Nothing is said of course nor is the new presence entertained, not even when the plate put on the windowsill for whenever he wanted it instead of it awkwardly behold held there with a few stammered words. In fact he only chooses to inspect the substance after the poor boy had scuttled back to the relative safety of numbers.

With a distinctly bored hmm, the wizard starts to poke at this odd substance with the fork he'd been generously gifted, testing the different edges and textures like it was something you would perform a clinical examination on such as a dissection table instead of something there to be, well, _eaten_.

"How unusual, you dipped meat that would be more suitable to be paired with potatoes into something that is rather more slimy and yellow _then_ wrapped it up in some form of flat bread and yet still expected it to be edible. Such a strange time these are."

After poking it a few more times for good measure, the utensil is set down with a soft clink and the vigil resumed with hands neatly folded behind his back. It is left otherwise untouched and apparently a complete unwillingness to even to try it either. Toby, having now settled back next to Claire, glances back to him then to her before leaning over to quietly murmur behind a palm and lessen any risk of the very particular person in question managing to hear anything.

" _What a_ _dick_."

She nods back with a grimace then promptly abuses his temporary distraction to make a sneaky grab for one of the few remaining fries before he can get the chance to try and stop her. He mouths, _rude_ , in mock indignation when it gets eaten brazenly in front of him to receive the most halo wearing expression ever conceived. Barbara, who had been watching the entire debacle between the duo and had a few choice words about the sheer impoliteness on display for the third, simply laughs and reaches out to grab another one from the plate herself as payment for letting Toby off for swearing in the house to which he mock gasps. Traitors all of them! Is no fry sacred?!

Strickler's own attentions meanwhile have become captured instead by the being at the window, slowly leaving their voices to become little more than lingering background noise as the subject moves onto the dreaded art of theatre productions. He has been in particularly eyeing the subtle oddities too slight for those not as skilled or practiced in observation to be able to discern; the smallest cant of the head as though listening but never in their direction, a half-second glance to the offending molten cheese, a scoff here and pursing of lips there. These little tells seem to be pointing to a _something_ just outside of perceivable sight whispering who knows what into Emrys' ear and the concept settle very ill upon his already growing and agitated anxieties.

Unfortunately as he knows all too well himself, there are some things in all of the worlds that do not particularly appreciate being so flagrantly **noticed**

Without any form of warning there is suddenly a feeling of a finger being pressed to lips, gentle but firm, that is a humble plea for secrecy and for his silence despite nothing _physically_ being there and it makes his eyes widen sharply and swiftly turn away. The changeling knows a warning when he feels one, even knowing this particular one would undoubtedly be given with a smile that appears only kindly on the surface. A wise man knows to acknowledge what is beyond the facade and he barely manages to suppress the shudder it causes. The smallest nudge he gets in his side he's given for far more mundane reasons doesn't even register.

"Hey, didn't you mention getting roped into Shakespeare a-" Barbara stops while looking at him with a studious frown then presses the back of her hand against his forehead, jolting him back into the current with a baffled blink before it's removed again.

"Walter, are you alright? You're looking a little pale, you do _feel_ okay but I'd rather hear you say it." 

_All eyes upon - Recover, breathe and now recompose_

"So sorry, I was miles away for a second there! You were saying...?"

She's not entirely convinced from the dubious expression but lets it slide now that the kids are watching intently both curious and far more than likely hawking for any material to use on him.

"King Lear?"

"Ah, the infamous tragedy in more ways than one! I swear that the stage prop beard was designed purely to be a constant itch and she was so obsessed with this need for me to wear it for every second take. I'm pretty sure I had the wrenched thing destroyed after everything fell apart after the board objected to the play being "too mature" for teenagers, I don't believe Miss Janeth ever found out come to think of it or at least she never _mentioned_ anything," he says with all the dramatical flare of a borne actor who lost out on a precious glimpse into stardom he never wanted particularly but ended up enjoying rather much regardless. Then he notices the two teenagers eyes upon him and feels best to try and nip that one in the bud before they start getting ahead of themselves.

"Don't even think about telling her you two, I'd like to not have _all_ my working relationships go down in flames thank you."

Now he _knows_ those innocuous grins are likely a straight up, lie thick as thieves as they are, and he has nothing he can back any threat up with or at least not while Barbara is sitting beside him, specifically. There has to be some form of distraction he can come up with to dissuade the idea before they go through with it...

The back door suddenly slamming open manages to catch them all (Bar one) off guard and the booming voice quickly answering who exactly is behind it.

"Friends! We have safely returned once more to your doorstep from our arduous journey in the name of recruitment."

What surprisingly _fortuitous_ timing from Blinkous there, that ought to solve the problem well enough from the way the children shout "Blinky! in unison and are dashing across the length of the house to throw themselves straight at him. Meanwhile the poor ailing doorframe behind creaks as the much larger General attempts to squeeze himself into the house without damaging it with sounds of nervous worry coming from him. When a shoulder manages to slip just about through he does look mildly relieved before trying to get the rest of him to follow. Strickler and Barbara remain where they are if leaning a little to the left to simply watch the joyful display unfold between the (Mostly) reunited Trollhunters feeling it better to not intervene. The mug is placed back down on a coaster and slid a bit away from the table edge to lessen the chance of anything catching it though she does just happen to confiscate another fry while nearly everyone is distracted.

"Did Gatto _not_ try and eat you this time?" Claire asks, still holding onto one of his palms and turning him back around just at the very moment the Krubera finally pulls himself free be rewarded by a tackle hug in the form of Toby launching straight at his chest. With his face snugly buried in green he gets a gentle pat from a large stone hand him on the head with a softest rumble of "Wingman" in greeting. Coming up for air, if still hanging on for dear life, he tries to reach the ground using his tie toes and carries on for Claire as he does.

"Yeah we were all getting like _super_ worried something might have happened to you two. It's been _forever_ since you left and there's been like nada from you guys all day!" They don't elaborate exactly what they could mean or quite why there is such urgency to know that they were still okay leading the two trolls exchange a look and a puzzled shrug in turn.

"It was poor reception I can assure you! We did not intend to cause you any worries and I did recall _you_ young Tobias mentioning to not try and make any contact while out of your country because of the costs being so high after the last incident in the great depths of Argentina. Now, where pray tell is Master Jim? I wanted to give all of you the good news together! I had expected him to be, well present...?"

"As did I, it is rather strange."

The silence that follows after those few spoken words would have made a single dropped penny sound utterly deafening by comparison.

Blinky is the first of the newcomers to regain their composure and mouths to the children, he's here? to get scowled nods in return and a motion for the two to follow them to the front of the house where they find Merlin rather unmoved by the new visitors, arms crossed now and paying no more attention to anybody else than he had been doing done prior. Barbara is outright glaring with fingers gripping the fabric of the sofa tight enough for the material to creak. Strickler places one of his own onto hers to offer moral support for whatever may come next, he suspects already it will be nothing particularly agreeable.

The smaller of the trolls looks between the gathered humans (And one not) who all wear a mixture of annoyance and aggravation at varying levels on their faces with uncertainty resting upon his own brow, he takes those few extra steps closer and then peers around the banister rail. All hands are brought together in a placating gesture in hopes for a better result from the man known to be infuriatingly cryptic or outright rude in any of their previous attempts at civil conversation.

"Do forgive me, but ah, please could you at all elaborate about whatever it is that you mean?"

Blue eyes shift only enough to appraise the speaker before rolling with a huff.

"Is it not _obvious_? The Trollhunter should have been back on the doorstep of his domicile by now and yet is not," comes the answer in a rather bored tone.

"An unexpected variable appears to have occurred and as a result he has ended up elsewhere instead. Nothing to be particularly concerned about however, he will be fine."

The sheer nonchalance he displays about the entire mess of a situation, talking as if it was a misplaced file or keys instead of Jim, **their** Jim, nearly causes a throw down right then with the wizard and there from more than one. Even the normally courteous AARRRGGHH mutters the words, _bad feeling_ , while quietly tucking away his squawking wingman under an arm before the warhammer can be drawn and wielded. Strickler's hand grips her own a little tighter but he manages to holds his tongue and merely narrows his eyes a little further as the sheer might of the death glare and rage bubbles beside him. Blinky ends up spluttering in pure indignation which stalls him those extra few seconds from launching into an angered spiel and gives Claire the chance to retrieve her Shadow Staff already charging and twirl it ready for use and without a single soul able to stop her trying anything potentially drastic.

"If _you_ don't know where he is then I guess I'll just have to find him for myself!" she hisses angrily already summoning forth a portal that will lead straight _Jim_ and -

"...Nothing?"

She blinks in bewilderment, looks where the void between worlds should have appeared then tries a second time as though it was some kind of weird rookie mistake on her part. There is nothing. Again. Same result.

"Why isn't it working?! It can always finds Jim. Every. Single. Damn. Time!"

Her precious weapon remains inert between her palms, uncaring for her angry tears that simply fuel it not the command she gives and certainly for when she slams the tip into the floor in sheer frustration. Blinky with eyes filled only with fatherly concern immediately goes to her aid and places a pair of his hands on the teenager's shoulders in an attempt to soothe but able to give no more answers to offer to explain as to the _why_. His fellow takes this as an opportunity to subtly scoot closer, or as much as those with a larger built frame are able to, sweeping the pair his protective embrace whilst being ever mindful of catching Toby on anybody. The teen having since accepted his fate of going absolutely nowhere has decided to full on glower at Merlin instead seeing as he's unable to quite reach her himself with the other troll in the way.

Just as the wizard appeared to be about to utter a remark of some form, a flicker of a _something_ rapidly seeps into the very air but only long enough for the smallest hint of a frown develop on Merlin's brow before it dissipates again. Strickler happened to notice the shift immediately, looking about in confusion for what exactly it was he felt for those fragile few seconds and absently wonders if it might have anything to do with the presence he had noticed before shaking that idea out of his head. He shouldn't be seeking to aggravate anything and _certainly_ not when Barbara is making a quiet apology as she slips past his knees and puts herself near the front door with her fists balled at the ready. Figuring it out can wait.

Breathing out an ever so annoyed sigh, Merlin surprisingly decides to properly address Claire with a softer look in his eyes and wilfully ignorant of anger and the blatant disgruntlement of the other teen should he even _dare_ trying and upsetting her any further as his tendency seems to be.

"Were circumstances still the same I suspect it would do so, fair Claire. Alas, when he made his choice it likely affected the Skathe-Hrün's attachment to him. With that said, with enough time it will undoubtedly work for you once again," he states surprisingly kindly if in a tone that sounds far more worn by the ages. It's an unusual crack in the constant forthrightness of his normal speech.

"That is the only answer I can give, as ever it is that same time that should never be wished away so idly."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She snaps back trying so damn hard to wiggle out of the troll's grip but alas, her arms now have a second pair of hands holding them up just enough to stop her charging the man and yelling right in his face. There's no way to mistake the cause of the deepening colours of the weapon still held in her hand feeding off her anger.

"You said he made a choice." Barbara is standing before him now with the tone of a Doctor scolding a misbehaving patient and a healthy dose of worse to come if they don't get back into line.

"What was it exactly that you did to my boy?"

With a curious glance he looks at her as though noticing this meek appearing being for the very first time, the only mundane of this household who heals with logic and learning while deftly keeping such an important warrior pinned under her wing to wither. The dismissive inflection returns with a vengeance after deciding she is little worth his words.

"The young Trollhunter was given a choice in how to fight in the upcoming battle. One option was a concoction that you won't find in your medical books, pieced together and made which is what he decided to utilise. I promise you, it was perfectly safe."

If he expected that to be the end of it which he may have done from the way he already started to turn away, he has severely underestimated Dr. Barbara Lake. Her eyes narrow to slits and Toby would swear by the fact the room temperature somehow managed to drop a few degrees in that very moment.

"Promise? Promise?! _You_ promised to help Jim and last time I checked whisking him away from his home, his friends and his godamn family is not **helping**!" she bites out, pulling every last drop of her earlier anger and launching every bit of it into her voice. Despite this the explosive display merely makes him roll his eyes and begins to return to his windowed vigil after deciding he is quite done dealing with whatever this is supposed to be now thank you.

"You worry yourself unduly with impatience quite like your son does, I presume that is where he must get it from. Now if you are all quite finished with your questions I believe I-"  
  
"No."

The greatest and most powerful wizard known to exist whom is called by some by an ancient name of Emrys and to more modern and troll-kind known by the name of Merlin in a moment of pure stunned astonishment looks at this mere _human_ and blinks.

"Excuse me?"

" ** _You heard me_**."

In a blatant disregard for any fears she might be harbouring she pivots to stomp over to the TV for the broom which had been left there after the earlier cleanup and in a fit of poetic irony, storms back over to the taller man with the handle brandished in hand and already aimed ready to take a swing. It comes as such a surprise to Trollhunters from their startled gasps as much as it does to Strickler who cannot help by make a sound of complete admiration as well. Nobody else dares move much less breathe beyond that lest the ire be drawn their way and all eyes now reside on hair that is glistening so much like fire in the hallway light.

“I don’t _care_ what you can do to me or who the fuck you really are quite frankly. Until my **son** is back here and safely in my arms again you are not welcome to set a single footstep in this household without my express permission, only the garage. Your right to hospitality went out the window the very second you made him disappear,” she roars in defiance, daring him to even think of trying anything.

" _Do I make myself clear?_!"

For a beat there is nothing while he watches her expression closely for her intent. With another annoyed huff he deigns her a reply.

"...Quite. As you wish, though I _will_ be taking this with me."

The searing gaze continues to burn into him while Merlin, in a rare moment of yielding to another (If lesser in his eyes) authority, picks up the plate with the objectionable food substance and wanders off down the hallway until he finally disappears behind the quietest sound of a door being closed behind him. Then and only then does she allow the broom arm sag with exhaustion and total relief at managing to still keep her Hippocratic Oath of doing no harm no matter how deserving the one whom she very nearly broke it for.

Toby lets out his own admiring whistle from where he is rather draped over a large troll arm quite unable to escape while Claire who is still wide-eyed nods in awed agreement.

"That happened," rumbles AARRRGGHH looking decidedly unsure what to do in this sort of situation. Deciding the easiest and most simple action would probably be best, he begins to gently release all of his charges before helping his still hanging wingman to slide and land comfortably on his feet getting a pat on his arm in return as thanks.

"Indeed. Lady Barbara, I er, would you be needing a moment? We can always reconvene at a different hour if it might help you at all?" Blinky cautiously approaches while trying _not_ to side eye the changeling who has seemingly managed to materialise out of nowhere to check that she is quite alright, discretion is supposed to be the better part of valour after all! And he refuses to be one upped by _him_ of all creatures during a time of far greater need.

"No, no you're okay... I think I found a second wind of adrenaline for a minute there and now I'm starting to feel pretty wiped again," she says giving the both of them an appreciative smile for their concerns though the exhaustion is becoming plainer as the seconds keep ticking by.

"Could you..? "

With an, of course, that is tenderly spoken Strickler begins to carefully guide her back towards the sofa (Only a _hint_ of smugness there for one upping the troll, honest) while being very mindful of the broom trailing behind. She has no real intent on relinquishing her weapon quite yet even if it's doubtful she'll need to use it as such anytime soon. The tiredness starts settling even deeper than ever now, enough so that even she's starting to admit that she won't be able to just solider through it for much longer without being forced to take a reluctant nap. But, how can she even think of herself when he's out there, lost, if anything that he'd said was true? She needs to keep going, a bit longer, she can wait she can _always_ wait however damn long it takes to bring him home. The kids can do it and she can as well no problem, really. Closing her eyes feels so damn tempting though, ah maybe for just for a minute, just the one, that will be okay...

"So uhhh I hate to add to the major downer we had dumped on us and all but, what are we do exactly now ol' Merle is refusing to help out?"

"Well now! My initial suggestion would be that first w-" Blinky is rather rudely interrupted by the peppy beats of _I'm blue da ba dee da ba daa_ emanating from deep within one of his many pockets much to his great irritation. One hand smacks his forehead while another two help fish for phone while he mutters under his breath something that could well be trollish cursing to spare a few ears. There is a shared horrified look between Strickler and newly re-awoken and slightly bleary Barbara the very second that tune bursts out into the open at maximum volume for all present to hear, _they remember when there was no escape_.

"Oh what in blazes is it _now_. Five minutes is that quite too much to ask?!"

"Mmm, important," the larger troll rumbles once more whilst taking the opportunity to peer down at the screen and spies that the call must be related to the moved Market somehow given the display shows a pile of socks. Deciding it could well be a while before anything important happens that will require him in some form, he settles down to wait in the open floor space with the, ahem, _unintentional coincidence_ of being in prime position to eavesdrop on both sides of the call. Not that he'd admit doing _so_ of course! But he does appreciate being kept in the loop using any piece of information he may glean to help others out which has become a tried and true habit over the centuries. More presently however, the two teenagers talking in hushed voices gets his curiousity a little bit more and the twitch of an ear over the semi-incoherent yelling coming from the small device beside him.

"Hey, wasn't it on the Jimmy Fallon saxophone clip? Y'know the Jack Black one."

"I thought it was still that one dude who wanted to blow up..."

"Nah, Jim changed it in case it started giving him ideas and he went mad with explosives, _again_."

"Oof, yeah good call. He takes nsfw back aaaaaall the way back to it's original meaning whenever he seems to get wind of one. Never took a troll for a secret Demo-Man you know? Big surprise."

Quite frankly AARRRGGHH has no idea what they are on about but whatever it is seems to be entertaining them enough and not worry, good. Need a chance to just be.

"Yes, yes I know - Yes I _understand_ -" A multitude of eyes are rolled as the caller prattles on completely uncaring for any of his attempted interruptions to the point he is now holding the increasingly loud phone away from his poor suffering ear while _still_ seeking that one moment to get a word in edgeways. The caller's voice is shrill and sounds exasperated even though no actual words can be made out by the unintended household crowd bar the awaiting Krubera curled near his feet who is seemingly unconcerned about such noise. With a gentle tap on his back for reassurance, the receiver appreciates the small gesture to help keep him somewhat grounded _despite_ the increasing annoyance.

"Ple- Please calm yourself a moment, Bagdwella!" Blinky pinches the bridge of his nose trying desperately to regain his composure and quell the increasing volume of his own voice to stop it getting out of hand before daring to continue.

"Thank you. Now, no civilised troll _snarls,_ Knonac must have simply misheard whatever it was in the terror of the moment and it was something else lurking in the area which would need looking into. No absolutely not! _I_ will head there shortly and come look for myself then we can decide what our next move should be, would that be acceptable? Good, now please try and keep word from getting out to the others and we will be there shortly. Farewell now."

Putting the screen under intense scrunity, he successfully manages to hit the disconnect button (First try! A new record!) and puts a hand under his chin to think while pocketing the device with another right before he notices multiple sets of eyes that do _not_ belong on one head gawping back at him with a mixture of puzzlement and worry. It's not the most reassuring or convincing smile he gives them back but he tries anyway.

"Ah, um ahem. Apologises! I wasn't expecting quite the audience?"

"Is Trollmarket...?"

"Oh goodness gracious no! Everything is very well, it would something rather strange has been sighted and you know how _dramatic_ Bagdwella can be when there is some excitement or gossip is on the loose. I simply suggested we come look ourselves," he replies gesturing to his fellow who is setting about standing with a creaking groan. He had hoped as much as AARRRGGHH likely did that they might get a bit of time before having to check in for the night, even more so after this development with Master Jim, but alas it seems no rest for the weary or for a Leader.

"I do hate to leave you all under such very trying circumstances, given the hour I suspect we may not even be able to get back a second time before daybreak if this takes too long to solve. "

"Hey, _hey_. The Market comes first, just let us know you got back and whatever it is that happened okay? We got enough worries in the world today alone without adding to them."

"Of course, I will endeavour to ensure it. Now Master Tobias, when you see my brother could you inform him that I have returned safe and well? I _was_ hoping to tell him in person but it seems I will need to put a shower-check on that idea."

"No prob! Nana's trying to get him hooked onto crime shows right now anywaaay he'll be too distracted to act grumpy," he replies bumping fists with his awaiting Wingman. Boom boom.

"He's lucky she's not charging him rent the way he keeps sitting round complaining all day though Chompsky is sure keeping him on his toes. Been helping mind him when I'm not there in case he tries, well more like _does_ , anything stupid."

Right, the gnome. _Of course the gnome is helping out_. Perfectly normal behaviour!

"Quite. Well now my good friend," the smaller troll places two hands on a stone arm to ensure his attention has been suitably garnered while gesturing towards the back of the stairs with a spare.

"I suggest we take the basement route, in such a night of ill omens I feel caution would be better advised even if the route detours somewhat for our needs. And please do forgive us for this rather swift departure so soon, I promise you Lady Barbara that we will leave no stone unturned in tracking down our young Trollhunter as soon as this minor incident is fixed up!"

With his strong and determined stance filled with unbridled confidence for a task that will be completed to the utmost, it is such a stark contrast to the incredibly weary and emotionally drained human who now has a cushion hugged to her chest that still manages to force a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Blinky, really for everything you've done for us."

Flashing a wide grin and a thumbs up (Marvellous idea! He has been getting rather taken with the concept) the pair of trolls begin their departure already pondering on what exactly was stumbled upon in those alleyways they have been forced to dub a "home" that has caused such a tizzy.

"Okay so while they're out doing that that _I've_ got one more idea I wanna try before the nights over. C'mon TP! We've got a wizard to yell at for some real answers," Claire announces out the blue after waving them off with all the excitement of someone who has murder firmly in mind and the will to enact it. Before the other door is even opened, Toby's arm is grabbed in passing with her free hand and is promptly dragged towards the garage without even thinking to stop or give him half a chance to pick up his feet. It's enough for Blinky and AARRRGGHH to pause to peer around the corner for the disappearing teens, shrug unsure how best to comment in the circumstances and decide it would instead be better to just leave it be.

"Oh um, kay guess we're going this way now apparently? We'll report back after if we get anything out of him, Dr. L., don't worry and I promise to make sure she doesn't actually try 'n kill him!" Toby throws out while trailing behind just as baffled as any of the eyes watching right now.

"Claire, lemme just get on my feet I'm not tripping down the stairs!"

"Just keep thinking angry thoughts, we need to be in the right mindset for this!"

With the diminishing echoes of stairs from one direction and the soft padding of disappearing shoes from another, quiet manages to _finally_ bloom within the household without any other form of surprise interruption or general chaos spontaneously showing up to ruin it. It almost feels like she might finally be allowed to breathe again despite the oppressing feeling of lingering loneliness, if that is the right word, that is prevailing still despite Walter is right there standing steadfast by her side and all the very real remnants and traces of others who recently existed in this same space including one very lonely fry. God, all she wants to do is just give up and cry for all the damn good it will do right now. Everything hurts like a hungering void has been opened up inside with her and has been slowly dragging her down bit by bit as Jim's disappearance becomes all the more real and hurtles towards hopeless. This ache, it reminds her a little of when James walked out on them and she just wants the awful sensation to **stop**.

"You know, I believe I have witnessed wars started for less than what transpired."

She shoots him a look as though he just told her he was secretly the cause of the moth-man legend much to his grand amusement.

"What."

"A wizard he may be, but I think you're the first one that's dared stand up to him for centuries if not far longer and you've left quite the opening for Miss Miss Nuñez to pursue in your wake. You are a rather formidable woman, Dr. Lake, I don't think enough people in the world have had the pleasure to tell you so and meant it."

It's a little odd almost getting a compliment like that, being told you must be so terrifying that an even mightier thing will back down for you despite being a Doctor whose very role is to heal the sick but equally, not so bad either? Nothing can ever beat a mother's love for her child after all, so why should a pesky know-it-all be any different? But then it's also hard to think when your brain wants to shut down and _rest_ and it's hard to find any words to deflect with from the head mush.

"Flatterer, quite unfair of you waiting until I'm far too tired to try and deny anything." She gives him a half hearted shove instead.

"Perhaps, but ah it makes it no less _true_ for me to say now does it." He flashes an oh so devilish grin earning another shove and the interaction makes her want to be... happy? Is she even _allowed_ to be for even for the briefest moment though? To smile and actually mean what it represents? It feels wrong to even want anything other than to yield to the need to pass out for a while or to simply functionally exist just enough to be here until he's here again. Neither of those would let her have emotions that hurt you with each breath or the doubts and the constant second guessing riddled with ifs.

"I'm fighting with the want to sleep for a thousand years so I can chuck myself into a limbo of not having to think when really I should be right **here** in case he comes home, is, is that selfish of me? To think of anything _other_ than Jim right now?"

He looks at her in such a way that she vaguely recalls talking about the same boy over coffee in a favourite little cafe, stressed with worry about his acting out and ignoring her because she didn't know what she didn't know. Does he remember too, she wonders, this similar moment rekindled by the same subject? He casually takes one of her holding hands from the cushion and lets his thumb run across her knuckles in a steady grounding rhythm, never taking his eyes of her own.

"No, not in the circumstances at all. It's a testament to your stamina you're still standing - sitting presently, quite frankly. I think you have managed to go near enough through the entire emotional spectrum in the space of a day even putting _aside_ the trauma of being chased then captured and, well, it is bound to upset the constitution somewhat," he replies ever so kind. While she _is_ still listening, his hand is proving a little distracting in how it's another solid thing she can latch onto.

"It may be a wise idea to listen however, even if it only turns into an hour or two of respite. I can keep watch on your behalf in both senses, I'm used to the late nights just as you are I remind."

She glances up and catches than earnest expression of his before quickly turning away lest a blush start while absently chewing on her lip in thought, working through the whys she _shouldn_ 't say yes that continue to roil and rage in her mind. It must be showing on the outside, his hand has now moved to fully take hers into his own.

" _Plus_ I can get everything nicely cleaned up in here down to the last dish and keep myself from being too bored in the process. Now, how does that sound for the lady?"

Somehow, he manages to say exactly the words to use to stop any excuses of why she can't possibly before they can even start. Is this what it's like for a worried patient of hers?

"Oh you're driving a very hard bargain here mister, are you sure?"

"Undoubtedly. Given who it is for it'd be a pleasure to assist."

James never would have considered offering. His interest only seemed to wane in helping out around the house when she was wiped from a back to back placement on emergency wards as much as it did in her as a actual person, by a small mercy it was far more gradual in their son until it was cut entirely. It is such a contrast having someone who cares knowing they could possibly never get anything in return thanks to smouldering bridges and who is content simply with the act of helping because it's for _her_.

_Without you there is no world, huh_

"Alright if you're really sure... Could you please leave the hallway light on? Just in case?"

A simple nod is given in answer and he waits for her ever so patiently for one final internal debate to pass if to change her mind or if to go until an attempt is made to stand on legs that wouldn't be far amiss on a new born fawn than they have the right to be. He doesn't even flinch when his arm gets gripped onto for dear life to help steady until she can relax into only needing the guiding hand that begins to slowly and with great care lead her towards the stairs with the throw cushion and the more infamous broom left behind. It's like being in the midst of an awful dream she can't seem to wake from struggling to wade more than a few tiny footsteps at a time with limbs of deadweight, but with a little light ahead that is still worth her while to follow for a little bit longer.

All too soon is a hand exchanged for the sturdiness and familiarity of wood that could be followed blind, well able to hold her weight leaning against it while she uses it to force herself to press onwards to where a distant bed lies, first one step, then a second one and a third while occasionally suffering the tweak of muscle groaning at being forced to keep working. On the fourth however there is a pause, balance still fairly questionable but seems stable enough to keep her held upright. He's about to ask if she's alright when she beats him to it.

"Walter," she states calmly while trying to hold any emotions suitably in check.

"Back when we were still underground, did you mean it? Any of it?"

A single beat and she gets her answer.

"Every blasted word."

Another beat.

She turns only enough to look at him with that judgemental eye of hers and it leaves him holding his breath quite unsure how she may react next. Thus it is with the greatest of surprise that despite the slight wobble she manages to turn around on the spot without stumbling until she faces and can look him straight in the eye. After a steadying moment she quickly eases herself into a descent until close enough that her hand may reach out and cup his right side of his face with utmost gentleness supported in great contrast by an iron grip on the banister. Oh how the sheer bewilderment must be showing on his face even _before_ that soft kiss is placed the other and how she merely smiles (Smiles!) as sweet as can be like it was the most humble gift in the world for her to offer one such as him.

"Just wanted to be sure. Don't forget to tell the kids, I know you won't but I feel a lot better for saying it."

With great mirth and a twinkle in her eye, she releases him to resume her slow amble towards the distant upstairs where a warm shower may be waiting (Bed _is_ more tempting but she would like to be a bit less grimy first) and leaves the changeling standing there too stunned for the common word. Only when sound becomes on the very edges of his hearing do fingertips ghost where lips had touched and the flush of colour darkens even more.

~~~

Grieving, she has decided, is missing somebody so badly that your heart mourns while you struggle to process the what, the how and the furious need to demand answers that never want to come.

Despite the sheer temptation for it, the internal garage door is neither open nor closed with a bang though the _attempt_ at being quieter is somewhat ruined by the stomping of feet and aura of bristled anger making it quite unmistakable for how that their little encounter might have transpired. Toby, who trails behind her, does not seem much better from the deepness of his frown while mulling over the words they were just told and neither appear to have weapons drawn thankfully. Strickler in the meanwhile has been collecting together all the takeaway boxes and cartons then started to debate the merits of what might be recyclable or would need to be tossed out instead. A mere brow is quirked at their at their renewed presence when they appear within his eye line.

"I am going to presume he only managed infuriate the two of you further."

Without even thinking Claire rounds him with a fierce glare before seeming to realise who exactly spoke and quickly averts her gaze by coughing into her hand. He's courteous enough to not say anything.

"I think it's a given with anybody who tries to talk to him really. But yeah! _Less than helpful_ is an understatement."

"Did try the quesadilla tho! You know for someone who was complaining how gross it looked he still managed to eat half of it even if he was denying it. Think odds are good he might go and leave the other food alone?"

"Mmm. Well, I have to say that would be particularly appreciated as he does have this rather irritating habit of leaving a mess wherever he decides to investigate. I would lock that door if I had even the notion it would actually work," he drawls while carefully breaking down some of the cardboard containers to make them flatter.

"If you need to speak to Barbara I am afraid she's trying to grab some sleep. Given the late hour, it would not be too bad an idea for yourselves either with it being a school night unless you have already planned other arrangements?"

_Nope but he doesn't need to know that_

Claire inclines her head towards the backdoor and makes a _psst_ sound at Toby to grab his attention. He very nearly hisses back a _what_ that his mouth quickly turns it into a _oooooh oh_.

"Right well we'll uh just be getting out of your hair, Mr. S! It looks like you kinda have your hands full anywaaay and we're needing a bit of fresh air like _super_ bad after dealing with him then we can worry about the whole sleep is important to live thing after."

If the changeling made any further comment other than the mild shake of his head, the pair miss it for focusing on casually but quickly getting outside as fast as they can and breathing a massive sigh of relief when he should be well and truly out of earshot. Neither had really expected him to still be hanging around in the house given they're _pretty_ sure he has his own apartment, let alone taking the time to finish cleaning up down to even recycling apparently.

"Boy _somebody_ sure is trying to worm his way back into good graces, huh? Really going the whole "I'm decent really!" route," Claire snorts, pressing off the now closed door to stroll out onto the grass and stretch everything out until they start to creak.

"Probably most manual labour he's done in his life that doesn't involve picking up a book to read. Then there's trying to buddy up with us about school, where does he get off exactly?"

"Oh I swear he _better_ just be on moral support right now or he'll catch these hands holding a warhammer. He's got some serious gall to think he can keep chatting Dr. L up and _especially_ after what he went and pulled," he replies following close behind if at a rather more leisurely pace.

"The trying to kill Jim multiple times or the whole binding thing?"

" _Both_ , mean I'm not all that picky about how much he sucks. Like, I'll be civil in front of his mom but since Jim can't do it I'll be side eyeing in his place like a whole ass sacred obligation." Toby puts a hand to his chest for dramatic emphasis before letting it drop and spinning on his heel to watch Claire finish stretching out her arms. 

"Sides, he was **Jim's** favourite teacher not mine. Plus there was the whole sneaking off for training with the changelings and to not tell Blinky that one time somehow ended up with our teachers going fully feral from drinking coffee stuffed with troll steroid juice."

"At least we know where we _stand_ with him on helping or if he's willing to do it or not. That stupid wizard said just to keep waiting, it's only a matter of time now. UGH!" Her hands ball up angrily while she glares up at the heavily clouded night sky while letting the sheer frustration of their current situation burn straight through. In an addition to the mockery apparently, the damn moon has managed to desert them tonight. Toby decides to let her have her a moment or two before gently patting her on the shoulder in solidarity.

"Plus he still tries to go 'oh fair Claire' at me like it will calm me down any while ignoring everyone else like you guys don't even matter!"

That one thing in particular makes her feel so mad! How can anybody be so rude? She's a teenager for goodness sake but he acts so dismissive and horrible to everyone else, always wanting to keep on her good side as if she won't notice him doing it. It's a real shame she didn't quite manage to Rule 3 him when she had tried it.

Saying that though, there _was_ something odd that happened just before that, the really weird way his expression seemed to change and a feeling in the air that was gone before she could even try to process what it was. Stranger still the only other person that seemed to pick up anything being off... was Mr. Strickler, which means maybe it might have been magic related? It doesn't make any sense with the wizard claiming he didn't have anything beyond "parlour tricks" and she's not even sure how to even _begin_ asking about it.

"Yeah, acts like a hot shot but this goes and happens then suddenly oooh it must be the way of things oooh~! He still won't say why downstairs looked like something went and exploded while we were out ooor even help clean it which, you know, super rude." The hand is dropped so he can do a suitable explosion effect with his hands, tongue peeking out a little from the corner of his mouth.

" _God_ , I know right? He just wanted to fiddle about with the TV remote and be vague with his "becoming a true Hunter" crap and won't even tell us. What. Happened," comes a huff in return over crossed arms. Her gaze manages to find that dreaded window where whatever happened, _did_ and you'd think nothing much of it from the outside any more than you would in. Just boring and ordinary that had an event that was anything but in the space of just a few short hours while they weren't there for him. _Deliberately_ so if that choice comment was anything to go by...

Vaguely, Claire can remember something Jim had said to them after he got out the Darklands, about _wishing things would go back to the way things were_ it could have been and right now in the worst of it all, she can't help but wish for the same. What would she give for where things still made any sense, Jim was back here where they knew he was okay and they could try and puzzle everything together between the three of them. A hand is running through her hair and tugging at some of the strands before she even realises she's doing it as the anxiety sinks in sharpened claws.

"Just, do you think Jim's okay? It sounded like the bathtub went and sucked him in then potentially spat him out just about _anywhere_."

Between one tug and the next Toby has managed to sneak up closer somehow and nudges close enough to touch her shoulder. He'd holding out a palm between them if she wants to take it and his own eyes now lay on the very same window that hers are before he shifts his attention to flash one of his trademark smiles that makes you want to believe as much as a hopeful optimist does.

"Hey hey, with all the messes we've been through together he'll be here when it counts, nothing keeps 'im down too long. Gotta try and keep the faith up and fuel it with wanting him back for payback on captain crazy armour in there, yeah?" he says gesturing back towards the house before his own shoulders start to sag a little. Shooting him a worried look she grabs his hand and hopes he picks up on the silent, we're in this **together** for good or bad.

"It's the whole _radio silence_ thing that's got me feeling all antsy. Dr. L's worried sick too and he'd H A T E that. The whole lying to her for so long was killing him inside, _both_ times, like the stress was keeping him up at night on top of you know everything else."

The group chat is still filled with all those messages, trying to talk him down from steadily growing anxiety attacks during close calls, increasing nightmares that her current ones are starting to rival and his worries mixed with the more usual ailments of simply being a teenager. She's read over them a few times, _okay a lot_ , while he was trapped but they were like these traces, actual examples of his being, that he'd _existed_ alongside them that made him feel far more _real_ than objects did and not a ghost that maybe was as time kept wearing on and on. It's so frustrating feeling so useless and unable to do anything, Toby was right at least last time they had something to work with but this? Nothing more than a few vague words and hoping for the best.

"I just, a sign would be nice you know? I'll take anything at this point it's not like "You can't find Jim because there is no Jim, at least not the one you know" isn't like ominous as _hell_ or anything for my Shadow Staff to suddenly stop working when I try to reach for him. I swear he's enjoying giving us the damn run around," she mutters angrily leaning into Toby a little more for reassurance.

"Though I wonder if that's what he nearly said in front of Barbara and why he changed his tune all of a sudden? I'm kinda glad he did though, I don't think she'd have reacted too well."

"Oh man she'd have broomed him even sooner if he did! I guess even someone old as balls has moments of humility? At least we _kinda sorda_ know what happened, which is something in a whole lotta nothing mind but a bit less nothing than we started with AND you nearly manage to boot him which was hilarious, a kudos to you."

"And it balances out the occasional nice moment with being an absolute dick every other time he says anything?"

"Nah actually connecting would have done that Claire Bear so next time you try, make sure I'm filming first so we can replay the tragic moment unfold over and over~" He's teasing and she can't help but laugh, even wondering absently what would be the best music to put that to.

"Right now tho think we should probably actually grab some z's as we're not gonna be much of a search party if we fall asleep on the job and with full mom mode in this household right now, upstairs or not, _I_ don't plan on incurring her wrath. She'll double team with Nana on me and trust me that is _not_ pretty."

There is a mock gasp from her as, two of them?! Truly they would be doomed!

With barely a moment between she is suddenly she is bundling him into a silent hug while her body struggles to decide how it wants to react on the emotional spectrum right now. Toby had said he didn't know how he managed without her but she really hopes he realises she feels the same way and just how _special_ he is. A world without his silly humour and actual ability to make everyone else stop and listen (Mostly) before they do go forth and do something really stupid? It sounds illicit and simply impossible for anyone else. Even terrible musketeers need someone to hold the brain cell between the three of them sometimes and she keeps getting swept up in the excitement of a moment more than she cares to admit.

They had barely started to head back inside where upon the night's breeze there comes the faintest whisper she can barely even make out before it's fades to nothingness and it leaves her blinking confused. It felt familiar, almost, and a little too close to home.

"Hey Toby, did you hear something just now?" she asks while looking behind them trying to see if there's anything in the darkness but only manages to come up completely empty.

"Because I'm not really sure, but for a moment it _almost_ sounded like someone was crying..."

~~~

Grieving, he has reconfirmed, is in the going through the motions of the loss of an entire world, both the old and the new, in complete secret. A golden silence no other will ever be allowed to hear locked away behind an unassuming smile.

It is an unusual thing to be thinking about when this same result is something that could well have happened at any point during his tenure at the Janus Order before it's final hours had dawned. Young Atlas, _gone_ without a trace though not in death as one would have expected but through the vested interests of a man thought lost to all conceivable time. Yet here it is, accompanied by the rather the disturbing feeling of familiarity in regards to those shadows that his mother and himself had witnessed before it had all seeped away. Then too is the strangeness of what can only be described as an Observer surely, unseen to all eyes but... Merlin's whose ear they apparently held. It _being_ there feels quite like an ill omen, that something had perhaps gone even _more_ wrong that he had cared to admit even for himself who has never been too fastidious about superstitions.

As is the way with such things it is also making planning around or adjusting for any and all eventualities rather difficult, not to mention the concern for what may have befallen their young Trollhunter that stopped him returning as had been apparently expected. "He will be fine" strikes as rather portentous, particularly so when it involves a teen known for having anxiety and a need to be around others. The stack of plates clatter loudly between his hands making Strickler inwardly curse, _what you get for musing instead of concentrating on what you're doing with breakables you idiot_.

At the very least most of the cleaning should be complete now short of breaking out a vacuum for any renegades he managed to shake out of the cushions earlier. Some of the mugs in the sink will need a chance to soak for a while for the dishwasher to stand any chance in making a dent in them, internally he makes a note for an hour or two for being left, and then can be added for a secondary load when there is no risk of the noise waking Barbara. Everything else meanwhile has been scrubbed to sparkling, stacked in their proper places, surfaces wiped down and food in the proper containers to help them last out a bit longer as leftovers. He has even ensured to lay out a larger mug ready next to the kettle for the morning ready for when she next chooses to venture into the kitchen no doubt in dire need of a caffeine intake to function. Given it is doubtful she will manage much sleep in the current circumstances, any ability to save time is probably a plus point.

Ugh, everything is almost _disgustingly_ domestic and he's doing half of it without even realising in a home that's not even his, Nomura would mock him utterly if she got wind of it and he can't say he'd blame her. Equally he cannot help but feel warm hearted about even _having_ this opportunity, not when it's for her, not when he so callously threw a chance away for a dream that was soon destroyed.

_Oh, how the mighty do truly fall_

Pushing the cabinet closed, he takes the moment to proper appreciate this place that for some truly forsaken reason feels like it could even be considered a home for him as well, even if it _does_ have a trace scent of an awful mixture involving cinnamon and jalapenos presently and the only salvation will come in the form of fumigating the area with air fresheners presently. The result of Mister Domzalski's desire to experiment "for science" as he so claimed is truly the stuff of nightmares and Miss Nuñez's open support of his endeavours invited even more chaos into proceedings than should have been allowed. Yet he cannot bring himself to feel annoyed, they had and continue to earn _any_ happiness a thousand times more than he deserves to even dream of, heck they had even nipped in to say goodnight before leaving via portal which was an honest surprise as he thought they would have simply gone. He is of course more than aware of how his good graces only come through their Atlas and without him here, well, caution on either side was the only reasonable option but it was still pleasant.

What a bizarre feeling this is to have, attachments to care about beyond their usefulness and, presumably, you being the same to them despite their knowing exactly _what_ you are beyond a role you portraying in that particular era. Teacher, friend, adversary, enemy, ally - there's probably a trope about that somewhere.

Taking the chance to ensure his hands are thoroughly washed, his mind is allowed to drift a little. He would do as promised of course in keeping an eye on the more intrusive guest but there is still that incessant need to fidget and simply do despite there is not much at all that feels practically possible at present. The large mason jar he had found upstairs in the bathroom is still squirreled away in one of the lesser used appearing cupboards where hopefully nobody will find it. There is a nagging feeling in that despite being _empty_ of whatever the potion was created within it, causes such a discomfort in the deepest recesses of his very being if he ever looks at it too long, like a dormant memory that does not wish to awaken without knowing why. It's all rather disturbing and probably a bit too dramatic to dwell on while committing the humble act of drying your hands. For all he knows it might just be doomed to gather dust forever more his gut is insisting on keeping it around might be a wise idea and sometimes it is the most trustworthy sense in your entire repertoire.

An absent finger is traced along the countertop while he follows it all the way around until he comes to a final halt at the divider. While he was on the other side at the time, this is where he truly met Barbara for the first time under the guise (And to be truthful, he honestly was being) of a concerned tutor, able to experience her questionable tea-making and was able to give the Trollhunter his first warning in honeyed words. Hell, even the very first intervention in the form of protecting the boy from harm came near this very spot didn't it? How very different things could have nearly been had he decided to be upfront with him? Blinkous had already started bringing the Atlas over with black and white thinking but there _was_ a slim chance of salvaging the situation left with their prior rapport but alas, it was one that felt too small to be worthy of the risk that if it went wrong it would have resulted in far too many blades held to his throat for even _him_ to pull out a surviving magic trick.

Were those baffling cracks that filled the very air here too, he wonders? Choices that had been made and changed a path to produce something entirely new that came from all these little moments that somehow coalesced as if by magic within a certain Lake household?

Lady forsake him, he's catching himself indulging with pointless internal monologue. Ugh, perish the damn thought.

"Oh, to get out of a world gone mad!" He begins to say in a voice somewhat sung allowing himself to gracefully pivot perfectly on the spot.

"Please help me let go of the chaos around me, this devil that hounds me." He's walking across the small space now with an almost jovial stride and within a single movement the cutlery drawer is opened and a knife held deftly between his fingers then twirled just like older more innocent times to test if the weight and feel is as true as he recalls. Blunt but enough. The drawer is nudged to a close.

"I need you to tell me." With another spin the knife is placed carefully down, point straight, next to the phone he'd left there back when he had started cleaning to lessen the chance of it being caught up in his tidying and lost. His hand hovers between the two as though he is undecided which to choose, sometimes a little to the left, others to the right.

" _Child be still_."

_No we're well beyond that now aren't we, my dear old friend?_

Scooping up the rather battered object which has suffered many an accidental and on particular very near miss during a rather recent road trip excursion which (Unfortunately) involved Nomura, he quickly scrolls through his contacts to find one very particular name. With a quick thought or two for the wording, he begins to compose a short message requesting a conversation to happen as soon as possible regarding recent events, his present location and an additional mention to ensure the _door_ is used instead of any potential alternative. Certain things do not feel right to say if they are not done so in person and even by his own admittance, this one is more than duly owed.

"And now we wait."

Letting out a sigh the Send button is hit and he in turn is left once more to ponder what exactly should be the next objective to start planning for. He was always lauded as one of the greats of their kind, silver tongued and lightning sharp, able to produce something out of nothing, turn a disadvantage favourable for the end goal of springing a Warlord that would just backstab you moments later that you secretly always knew deep down. Supporting the children? Obvious. Ensuring that Barbara has someone whenever wanted and to be utilised as she sees fit? Unquestionable. Which leaves the more important issue at hand: The Trollhunter **must** be found before the Eternal Night is brought forth by Her but they have no leads nor ideas where to start and for whatever reason the Skathe-Hrün has been rendered unusable for tracking whether by coincidence (Likely) or through malice (Less so, but still possible) shutting down their best option entirely.

It is like they have been left to wander blind during a race where the finish line could ambush them at any point with the consequences for any mistakes or being unprepared being truly dire indeed.

_It's now or never - Everything's on the line - What's it gonna be?_

In an utter affront to all that forms the very concept that is Stricklander (Current known alias: Walter Strickler), he does not have anything to even _begin_ to answer that fabled question with.

~~~

So don't let me go it alone

Turn your head up to the sky

Nothing down below but me

Face the truth to realise all that we could be

Torn apart by rage and fear

Hold on to what brought you here

Don't let it go

Never let go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening/closing lyrics for this chapter: [Never Let Go - Josh Groban (With Deep Forest)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LuXjoIv8mW8)
> 
> ~
> 
> I will be straight up honest in that this chapter did not do what I wanted, at all. Originally intended to be a small mirror of Chapter 1 that extended into Day 1 of the timeline, it instead decided to spiral as everyone tries to hold together in a awful situation bent on crushing any hope. But even the word hopeless is not devoid of hope, is it? They just need one tiny lead and maybe, just maybe the light will find them again... 
> 
> I’d also like to extend a MASSIVE thank you to silver-spider-art for [ this post here ](https://silver-spider-art.tumblr.com/post/190521332911/so-in-relation-to-a-project-a-ridiculously-long) as it has been an absolute god send for this chapter and I simply couldn’t have figured out the logistics nor tying things up properly with what Jim saw from the outside in Chapter 1 without it. There is one for Claire and Toby's house as well!


	3. To strive and triumph in the face of fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell, it's about time - I do apologise for that! Lotta things happened and as you likely been able to tell I've been writing away regardless while picking my way at this until stubborn determination made me write the rest of the chapter over the course of mere days. This one has surpassed even Chapter 2 in length and this fact terrifies me immensely it just would not be sated without even more words like a black hole. The Eternal Night is getting closer and quite frankly nobody is ready for it so lets hope for some good news, yeah?
> 
> We've been through identity and grief, now it's time for confrontation for our lovely chapter themes.
> 
> ~ ~ _I walked through hell and kept going until I could find heaven on the other side_ ~ ~

Some voices are born of dreams

Some not yet begun

But for those who are forged of steel, spiritless

I must lay the foundation

There's a conscious define - Want to be free

And it's deep in my mind - Calling to me

But every time I look there's nothing there

~~~

Breathe in then hold it there. Feel the earth between your fingers and use it to ground yourself in the moment. Breathe out slowly letting your worries carry away with it. Open your eyes, remind yourself of your surroundings and that you are safe here. Listen to the gentle lapping of water, the faint rustles of trees around you and how there is **life** here. This is the surface, this is real, this is where you are right now.

It takes a few more attempts of this exercise before Jim's heartbeat is coaxed into something that doesn't feel like it will explode and gently coaxes an all too foreign jaw to unclench. Unfortunately anxiety's claws are sunk far too deeply to be completely rid of how it nips away at his heels but at least _this_ one won't turn into another full blown panic attack, he's had enough of those for one night. Can't say he's particularly fond of how this weird enhanced night sight he's gained keeps making him freak out at the colour green even either, it's not even remotely the same shade, not even close, but his mind latches onto all the wrong things to the point it's hard to tell if he's trapped in a dream or truly awake while at it’s worst.

The less that is said about being coincidently stuck in the very same black and red armour the better.

The blues are helping though, specifically having water nearby and the whole ... skin ... thing. It's a small comfort being able to touch either of them, really _feel_ the different textures of what is around him to be sure that they're really _there_ and not something else conjured by disassociation's grip. What few of the same that were in the Darklands positively glowed in comparison and screamed of danger or a threat; these being far more muted are harder to muddle.

The Trollhunter had returned to the clearing he had originally awoken in though he wouldn't be able to put a guess on how long he's been here, maybe hours? Right _now_ though with knees pressed to his chest and awaiting the worst of the latest one to ebb from his system he's somewhat proud that he managed to stop any more tears streaming. The sensible thing to do of course would be call it a night and rest up from all the mental exhaustion of trying to keep his head straight between spikes of irrational worry but for whatever reason he keeps finding himself weirdly restless whenever he tries to curl up somewhere. It's like this incessant need to _do_ rather than any fear of being discovered and without anywhere to constructively put it leaves him even more jittery than he'd started. Maybe it's from being passed out so long before has made his body think it's had enough sleep for now? It didn't _seem_ quite right but with everything being so abnormal it'd at least be understandable if it was the culprit. It's hard not to feel like a small child who is aware they know nothing but doesn’t have a clue where they’re supposed to start about fixing any of it.

With a bitter snort Jim attempts to unbundle himself from limbs that are far too long and back onto the sturdiness of feet, making sure to stretch out all of the budding kinks and wincing a little at the loud cracks that echo under the armour. Yeeeah maybe he should stop going into hedgehog mode between the worst of these so much, _that_ might be a smarter idea while nobody is here to poke him out of it. If he had any sense he'd find himself something to focus on and help distract him from sinking straight back into the mire where the worst of these spirals kept happening. A little innocent exploring couldn't hurt, right? If he can keep the water in sight or least within _hearing_ _range_ he might be able to figure out something else that's been bothering him without straying too far away and perhaps even a bit of snack hunting could be an option. Surely even _he_ can scrounge something to keep him going that doesn't require any kitchen prep and after all of that he might even get really lucky that it’ll make his mind will finally stop whirring and let him pass out for a while. That'd be great honestly.

With a final glance around with pricked ears should something have managed to slip his ever wary guard, Jim melts back into the darkness of the surrounding trees as though he always belonged whilst resisting the persistent itch that calls from above to come up and clamber among the branches for a better vantage point. As tempting as it may be, he doesn't quite trust himself not to stumble or fall while his head is all mushy and body so high strung. His unprotected hand begins to trail fingertips across the bark as he passes, revelling in their solid nature while determined not looking at it and instead revelling in the quieter sounds of a night still young.

Alas for all the precaution and nerves, the half-troll still manages to be completely oblivious to the unnatural pairs of eyes that are watching him leave.

~~~

4:42 am

_Truly these are the most traitorous combination of numbers to exist_

Glaring accusingly at the time Toby attempts to wiggle his way onto the side that _isn't_ forced to behold ominous green digits despite a weighted blanket hellbent on making sure he stays put. With a few more spiteful tugs he manages to create enough give for him to both move and rifle under his pillows for wherever his phone might have snuck off to between the listless tosses and turns. He'd left Jim's charging and on silent to avoid any surprise wakeup calls so it'd be good as new when he'd be able to give it back to him... Hopefully that’d be soon.

Otherwise everything about the room remains unnervingly quiet disturbed only by the constant buzzing in his head and it cuts a little too close to how that bathroom had been if he's honest? And that's on top of the lack of the usual comforting sounds of his Wingman either dozing or poking around at anything that catches his interest in the middle of the night then just to make it even worse there is not even late night rustling nor any snoring coming from the dollhouse suggesting Chompsky might have gone on a wander too. All together it makes the space feel **claustrophobically** lonely for this solitary soul who had become so used to having other signs of life since falling into the world of trolls.

Ugh can his stupid brain lay off already when there’s the whole _sleeping_ thing instead that should be hogging all the attention? Sometimes AARRRGGHH isn't here, it's not that unusual! He'd much rather not be dead on his feet tomor- _today_ \- because that is just gonna be a whoooole big bag of suckitude on top of, well, literally everything else.

Letting out an aha! He flops onto his back with phone now in hand and squints on the wrong side of groggy at the sudden brightness becoming a makeshift torch in the darkness. Now with tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth in concentration and after a couple false starts on the mission to unlock makes it into their group chat currently named "WTT one (1) Merlin for better model", his own doing and he's proud of it thank you, then a few more taps later attempts to type a message that hopefully won't be _too_ typo riddled.

Sry kno its late

Cant speep

:(

Mood

N8mares?

Or hat shaka earlier

Nah

**Everything**

Can't stop thinking

Hay

If u wanna talk

Literally doing no thing

All urs~

Thanks TP

How's Chompsky btw?

_Peanuts are tainted_

_Mr peanut is dead to me_

That bad?

Listen

I seep hearing makeout noises

Theres o going back

I'll get you bleach

Tyty

Hey can I have a Y N opinion?

I've been wondering if

Maybe we should have told Mr. Strickler

He's worried too

I think

N

Jim trusts him

But cant

Probably n important

Marlin bing Marlin

Yeah ... You're probably right

Anyways

How you and Darci doing?

I want deets from both sides!

Debating if 'm a furry

Tbh

You absolutely are

>:o!

The texts fire back and forth with barely a break between until slowly but sure they begin to drift into half unreadable rambling and by the time 6am strolls by Toby is _finally_ able to sleep soundly while sprawled out like a humble starfish under the covers with phone now sitting merrily on the side of his face where he'd dropped it. In an hour or so he will completely miss the first alarm for school but not the second one, they have too much determination and even sharper teeth to let him.

~~~

They'd both agreed via some stealthy texting under the table at breakfast on Claire's part that she'd meet him outside the Lake household with her bike so they could keep talking while heading out which made sense plus had the added bonus of there would be less risk of anybody stumbling over a random portal showing up at Arcadia Oaks High or Eli seeing it. Somehow no matter where they came out it _would_ be him there then they'd end up getting last minute detention by indulging every question under the sun and the day would be already hurtling downhill before it really got chance to get going. It was gonna go south by the afternoon minimum anyway but it'd be nice to have some spare time before it did yanno? They've _earned_ a breather before it did.

So Toby had grabbed his bag, kissed Nana goodbye on the cheek while she finished off her own breakfast of a few eggs ripe for dipping, checked in with the resident gnome who at the time was sharing popcorn with his uh fiancée?? And keeping it out of reach of Blinky's brother "watching" the TV with them which it’s self was showing something that looked like suspiciously like the shopping channel then headed out before he could get roped into any quick favours. Sure it was kinda weird but who was he to question any of it at this point? The Warhammer was with him so that’s the most dangerous thing in the house removed from the equation and if a genuine emergency came up Nana would always call in. Now with his bike waiting on the path for pick up on his side of the cul-de-sac, it takes only another half a minute to cross the road and let himself in through the front door as he did any morning nobody was waiting there for him already.

"Heya Dr. L! Hope I'm not disturbing you, just wanted to check in before headi-- HOLY CHAMPINOS IS THAT MS. NOMURA?!"

His initial response comes in the form of a mildly irritated sound from under a multitude of blankets that had curled up on the turn of the sofa with barely a trace of the black-haired occupant visible. The more obvious changeling, if human presently, seated beside snaps his book shut and turns enough to glower at the newly invading teenager without even bothering with any form of the usual polite decorum.

"Mister Domzalski, I must request that you keep it down if not only for the sake of all ears but particularly for the fact she is not a morning type and I assume you wish to keep your head firmly _attached_ to your shoulders?"

"Why. Is. She. Here," Toby hisses thankfully quieter and while wildly gesturing towards them. Unseen by him is that an arm is reaching out to thieve the last fleece blanket that had formerly been draped over his legs both for his own warmth and _her_ comfort from when he was being used as a living pillow to be added to the growing collection of every single one in the household.

"The ‘graveyard shift’ as it is known is a period where you can still be occupied with business and in this particular case there was a rather important conversation to be had. Nomura is here as a _guest_ and should be treated as such," Strickler's tone is all formal patience of a teacher with a touch of irritation residing at the edges which is mostly laid at the fact his legs are beginning to chill.

"Barbara is fully aware before you infer otherwise, she came downstairs a little while ago taking some of the leftovers and coffee making for a rather ... _Unusual_ breakfast. I very much doubt she managed much sleep though I suspect that feeling is rather mutual given yourself."

Toby expression sours into a scowl over newly crossed arms because while it's likely true, it doesn't sit right to him to have two former enemies hanging around when she’s here on her own. The way Strickler smirks back all charm and a hint of vinegar only manages to get his back up even further but his snarky comment back is rather rudely cut off before he can utter it.

"Given your rather grand entrance this early in the morning, did you actually _need_ anything at all?"

"Ugh _no_. I just wanted to check in and see how Dr. L was holding up before Claire and me headed out for a fun day of pretending everything's not going to s-," he swiftly pauses to make a fiery gesture with his hands as though worried he'd be overheard swearing. Certainly would explain the hint of a smile he is given for that swift course correction.  
"Sooo yanno if s-"

"From the mutterings I gathered that the answer to your question will likely be a yes. Cannot say I _blame_ her particularly given the alternatives but I will endeavour to keep an eye on her regardless and the rather less invited guest too. That should give the pair of you one less concern at least." He gives a dismissive wave of a hand before turning back to the book that is more battered around the edges than when he had first been gifted (?) it some years prior. The title is Tuesdays with Morrie. 

"Okay, sure, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt and all but you _better_ text one of us if anything starts going weird, like weird for us weird, happens, Mr. S. Maybe then I'll finally forgive you for giving me a D on the last test."

The response is an indulgent snort before a more humbled ahh, dear me.

"It would appear that she is stirring. I'd get a move on or you'll never even make the first bell, Mister Domzalski. This is your only chance for a reasonable head start and I would rather advise you take it while the opportunity is still available to you."

A look of terror explodes on Toby’s face while looking between his former teacher/principal who appears little more than innocently amused from what little of his expression he can see and the aforementioned spot on the sofa before swiftly bolting straight out the door. For a few moments it looked to be all until there is the muffled sounds of timid footsteps returning and reaching back into the house to pull it closed before a reminder was even required.

It is only after the word _honestly_ is uttered that a hand of a different kind appears though this one grabs one of his lapels with nails firmly embedded in the fabric to force him to give her his fullest attention backed with glaring eyes rife with glow.

" _I swear if you don't shut up I will make **you** her emergency at home._"

It is given a gentle pat before being gently unhooked from his jacket much like a cat with stuck claws allowing it to be withdrawn again though the action is sharply contrasted by his rolling eyes.

"Of course my dear. Don't worry you have another hour at least, do sleep well."

When Claire steps through the newly portal upon Jim's driveway accompanied by a bike being carefully pushed alongside looking as tired as he is from the lack of sleep despite valiant attempts to masquerade with makeup to stop her parents questioning it, she is welcomed by the unexpected sight of a rather panicked Toby. His back is pressed against the front door looking trapped between the idea of bolting and just staying put lest whatever scared him realised where he was if he did one or the other. From how tense his hands are, the fact she's right there doesn't even seem to register.

"Uh, TP? You doing okay there?"

The way he starts when he hears the noise quickly confirms it though the way he slowly turns to look at her still riddled with terror makes her mind _race_ to the worst thoughts of what could have happened. There’s nothing particularly obvious going on like an injury or any damage to the door plus given only Barbara should be there she’s coming up blank for anything that would _cause_ this level reaction yet leave him perfectly unharmed.

"Soooo apparently freaking Nomura is napping on their sofa and I think she still has it out for me or if she didn't already she sure as hell does now for waking her up," he answers, fingers raised just enough to motion behind him but otherwise making no real effort to move.

"I kinda didn't expect my day to start with inspiring yet another death wish on top of everything else and yet here we are because this is what our lives are now. Yay."

Thanks to an understandably sluggish brain it takes far longer to digest the words than it normally would being temporarily stuck in a tossup between the concept of a changeling cat napping and that one with such an open distaste for humans coming _here_ of all places to do it instead of her own place is not helping. Sounding out a noise that could be as good as a hmn, the bike is carefully put down as to not make a racket and the newly freed hand is placed on his nearest shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze and a bonus smile.

"Then I guess we better get to school where you'll be safe among other people and hope she cools down by the time she comes to hunt you down then huh?"

"Oh God you're already picking up the politician speak," Toby groans dithering on whether to yield and stand or simply not until a, _hup hup!_ and an arm is grabbed to make the decision for him. He grudgingly complies if pointing accusingly at the open smugness that would give knife cat a run for their money and it doesn't diminish an iota while the compacted Shadow Staff is squirrelled into her backpack with her textbooks.

"Fine you win _this_ round Nuñez but when the adrenaline wears off you better stop me crashing and passing out in the gutter. There's clowns down the drains yanno, IT was pretty clear on that one."

"As much as I think you'd make a good gutter gremlin, snatching aside, I won't don't worry but _only_ if you do the same for me," she shoots back hoisting her bike back onto wheels while he nips on ahead to fetch his own from where he’d dumped it.

"Done and done. As much as I _want_ to sleep you know disaster magnet procedure will start up if either of us closed our eyes for more than a microsecond second despite," newly helmeted he gestures to the clear skies with minimal cloud cover above, kicking the stand aside and starts to wheel over so they can set off together. It’s strange to fall into this routine again months later he thinks, like finding an old sock you didn’t realise you were missing.

"Being broad daylight, never stopped 'em finding a way to do the impossible before."

" _Now_ who's tempting fate," she teases though the shared weariness evident in her voice too.

It would be a lie to say that Toby wasn’t enjoying the following calmness of the morning. It's sunny as always, birds are singing, minimal traffic to play dodge with that it felt deceptively normal despite the recent threat and everything _else_ that has been hanging over their heads of late including that of the _absence_. Truly they are beholden to the luxury of thinking they still have time to waste.

"How's Not Enrique hold up anyway? Not mentioned him since we were breaking Merlin out in limbo time ago," he asks as they round onto the next street trying to hold his speed to be more in line with Claire and not fall too far behind. It will take them a while to get to Arcadia Oaks High may as well fill it with something harmless.

"Mamá’s not tried to exorcise him again so that's good. Think he's still going between my room and Enrique's to keep an eye on us too? Didn't show up last night but he was probably complaining I was too noisy talking to you or something." Glancing back she decides to slow a little bit for him for which he's very grateful.

"Though way more importantly, I've finally got video proof he's been trying to teach mi hermano words! I've been trying to catch him for _weeks_ but he's been getting super sneaky about it like even pretending he was actually napping in the crib instead level. I swear his hearing is way too good had to cheat and use a portal where he couldn't see me to finally pull it off."

"Aww, he really _is_ a softie under all that huffing and sarcasm."

"Shhh don't let him hear you say that he gets _very_ colourful when being all indignant trust me. How I figured out he was teaching me swear words when he was ‘helping’ me with my Trollish actually.”

"Trash baby from the get go huh? Aww but look at _you_ abusing your big sister rights to embarrass your brother and much greener brother.”

“The payback is oh so sweet~”

He makes a mental note to tell Jim when ... _When_ he's home knowing he’d get a kick out of it too for all the grief the little changeling had caused them and for the way her face is glowing with pride at achieving the seeming impossible. He'll try and be patient on when to spring it though, maybe when the three of them can watch the footage piled on the sofa together with some hot chocolate and blankets assuming they get half the chance? Or they could just have a film binge with that being the opener so they can get some proper chill time because they're waaaay overdue a How to Train Your Dragon re-watch session. Last time they tried to Jim ended up passed out from exhaustion and he wasn't too far behind him after having spent most of the evening around the Forge. Ugh he can feel his eyes getting heavier even just thinking about the idea...

"Hey TP, did you ever get another update from Blinky? It went all quiet after the ones complaining about the camera not working and not being able to figure out how to attach the photo properly."

His bike suddenly swerves a little too far to the right and startles him so badly that he almost clips the kerb. Shoot getting stuck in his head a bit there. He tries to shuffle back beside Claire and pretend it never happened while hoping even more that she didn't notice anything.

"Uhh I got a text from some random ass number? It _might_ have been Bagdwella for all I know they didn't sign off. Anyway it said he'd fingerprint locked himself out his phone yet again and they'd stopped him eating it in frustration so I guess that means we gotta make a stop off after our glorious day of education and see whatever the panic last night was over. He didn't seem _that_ worried tho from the earlier ones so maybe just wants to make sure we stay in the loop? Can still go with the original plan afterwards less something changed after he cut himself off."

"Yeah, can't say I _blame_ him for wanting to while they're stuck out in the open like this. Those patrols keep getting far too close for comfort and we've barely been getting a night off for weeks."

"Ah ah but the Trollhunter's most noble of duties are never done! Even when all we're needed for is tech support for a troll with butterfingers on all four hands. Like seriously how is that even possible you'd think at least _one_ would be good."

Claire flashes him a warm smile in reply that is more than a little worn around the edges before the road reclaims her focus and he's absolutely going to blame running on nigh empty for it for how it makes his stomach flip as much as it would if it was _Jim_. During some absent wondering during one of the lapses in texts last night he'd been doing a bit of a spelling questionable Google-fu searches that is making him suspicious of a word that might explain it but uuugh he really does not want to be dealing with this. He **needs** is to be focused on is what's important and only that, all these stupid feelings that keep wanting to act up over his friends have to wait no matter how annoying the itch they create that is incredibly persistent in their attempts to get him to pay attention. Through stubborn defiance and resolve alone he tightens his grip on the bars, lets out a breath of air through his nose and narrows his eyes to serious mode.

_Because come hell or high water we're gonna find you and drag you back home Jimbo if it's the last thing we do_

~~~

The banter continues lightly between them with only the occasional migratory thought interrupting with the tense topic of Jim being staunchly avoided and before they know it they're drifting away for their respectively lockers to grab what they need while trying to keep the other in sight as much as possible. In the fun that is high school social decorum people _know_ they're friends sure but there’s the looks and whispers that happen if they're seen as being _too_ close to one another or heck there’s the incident with Darci and the radio braces made him a more than a little nervous that without Jim to vouch it might be taken the wrong way and spread like wildfire which he didn’t want to put that one onto Claire again. That little mess aside in theory it should be a lighter load today? School's out for summer after tomorrow but a few teachers sure like to spring extra assignments at the very last second to make things absolutely not awesome sauce though Mr. Strickler is now out the question. The changeling was always the _worst_ wildcard if he was that stunt was happening or not down to sometimes baiting he wasn't and then deciding on a whim to put down an entire book just to see the horrified faces. Really, the signs were all there who he really was.

Somehow the pair of them manage to slam their locker doors in unison despite being at the opposite ends of the row with a third echo distinct in it’s absence then fall back into step soon afterwards. No class together until after lunch which sucks so it'll be snatching the moments to plan for later whenever they can and hope some good news crops in in the meantime. That and hope there’s no word that Merlin trashed the house for a second time.

"Don't you have band practice by the way?" He asks while ever casually sidestepping getting a backpack to the face. You never expect Trollhunter training to benefit so much in crowds but man does it ever pay up.

"I mean yeah I do? I'll think of something to tell them or try and wrap it up quick, either way I’ll keep you posted. Figure may as well try and hold onto being normal teenagers before we're back in the deep end afterwards even if it’s more of an illusion of it."

"Man I wish you the best of luck Mary quite frankly terrifies me. We got lucky we were too much of nobodies to ever get on her radar and earn **The Stare** seriously even Steve backs down to that thing and it's _Steve_." He doesn't suppress the shudder; oh how many have fallen to the wrath of the resident queen bee of the high school either by scathing commentary or by a few clicks on social media spelling their doom?

"Oh Mar's fine when you get to know her, should try and get the lot of us together sometime be a big friend date or something and maybe could bring in Shannon too so she doesn't feel the odd one out? Summer _is_ summer and we’ve earned some fun without strings attached." She nudges him in the side but he gets interrupted from answering by Claire exclaiming a name and summarily throwing herself into the throng of people like a duck to water. She pauses mid step to point at his now bewildered face as _uh what just happened?_ Despite half already being half disappeared into the swarm.

"And make sure you text your girlfriend and not just me all day, TP, you got that!"

"I'm _almost_ insulted you have to tell me that Claire bear," he replies all solemn then, just to completely ruin it, puts on the most masterful shit-eating grin his tired body can possibly muster with added finger guns to complete the effect.

"Our group chat ain't that crispy despite who's in it."

It is only by the virtue of Mary Wang seemingly materialising out of thin air to usher her bestie away while rattling off the hottest morning gossip with a name drop about something Aja did that prevents the aghast Claire lunging right at him then and there. Ah he lives for moments like this even though the lack of response to his expectant high five is very disconcerting.

"Well ain't gonna leave myself hanging. Head's up me," he mutters before slapping his hands together then wincing from doing it a bit too hard. Ow.

When someone touches his shoulder out of nowhere while he's still shaking the sting out of his own out of pure instinct he whirls on the offender with an expression that screams ready to fight while making a grab for where his Warhammer would be in his backpack within a single beat. Imagine his surprise when this impulsive reaction is met with the rather nervous face of Eli Pepperjack who merely squeaks and quickly withdraws. Toby blinks, his entire thought process thoroughly derailed.

"S-sorry..."

"Oh shoot wow uh no no _I'm_ sorry. I guess I'm a bit on edge didn't mean to scare you that badly jeez." All apologises the hand that was going for something to strike with switches to simply pulling the strap from where it had started to slip upwards in a poor feint. The other is kept where it can be seen out the opening where it can appear the least threatening possible. 

"I'm okay! Really! Though _you_ do look kinda -"

"Like death warmed up? Don’t worry that’d be a compliment." The yawn comes completely unbidden and he doesn't put any effort into hiding it despite the rudeness.

"Cus I sure feel it. Another rough night and I'm gonna need to chug another energy drink soon but then what else is new at this point. Anywaaaays, take something happened that couldn't wait."

The other boy fidgets away with the bridge of his glasses while waiting, frowning a little at the need for a boost quite this early in the day as he’d last at least two periods after an all-nighter but doesn't make anything of it until his moment comes with a oh!

"Do you know where Jim is? Steve sent a text and he never replied which isn't like him, I mean I _know_ they're still not on the bestest terms but it was Creepslayerz business and I figured he'd read those ones he usually does! Is he okay? I couldn't find him anywhere and thought he'd be with Claire or you..."

Toby must have failed to hide the panicked expression fast enough because he immediately gets latched onto with the other boy's voice pitching louder and in true fashion when he gets engaged with talking about a subject that interests him gets more and more animated every couple of words.

"Oh no did something happen? I know he tries to hide injuries but I've seen the way he limps sometimes, all the bruises and not to mention that time after we had that really big storm and -"

A pair of hands clamp down on either shoulder perhaps a little too harshly with a silent yet stern plea to _please not do this_ cutting Eli off in his tracks. Green eyes stealthily glance around to people looking their direction oddly and are already whispering between themselves. Tis very bad timing to happen while the rush is still going on and an all too willing audience for anybody within earshot.

_Welp this ain't good_

"Alright people it's just larping nothing to see here! Boring geek stuff! That's right move along I've got no cred to lose anyway but _you_ might." A hand is taken away to add a shooing gesture to proceedings before he turns his attentions away and chooses to use a more hushed whisper lest any other eavesdroppers hear something important.

"Listen, liiiiisten there's just been a _little_ incident and I genuinely can't answer the where bit because it has literally kept me up all night trying to figure that one out. But! I'm here right now and can help out with whatever it is just as good. So where is Steve anyways? Thought you both got over the pretending not to have anything to do with one another thing after Mary called it out and the network started rolling in with photo evidence."

"Track! Coach wants to make sure he gets the most out of the field before everything's locked up and have to in his words 'break in to use the facilities' like we don’t all know he has a key so he can have his morning jog around it anyway." Thankfully he sounds a lot calmer than he had been though there is still a lilt of concern regarding what the ‘incident’ might be thanks to a conspiracy riddled brain though he wisely decides not to push it anymore though his face does light up when the remaining hand is taken away mind.

"I said I'd go find Jim instead and see what was up! He was still being pretty mad about being ignored and you know what he's like when he gets excitable." 

_Ho boy does he_. Palchuk has been on their collective asses since they were tiny and the idea of him being nicer to Eli of all people even now is **highly** suspicious but those are thoughts best kept to yourself. No real point starting drama over without any real proof case you got the wrong end of it thus in deciding to be the better person a finger is raised instead to ask for some patience while he starts digging around for where he'd stashed away Jim's phone to not confuse it with his where it’d be well away from any nosey changelings and it was somewhat comforting in knowing at least _something_ of his was safe and sound. With a ponderous hrm he begins the flagrant art of breaking in gaining the face of Eli who has squashed himself in the small gap between shoulder and backpack to peer over his arm not at all caring about the personal space invasion. It wasn’t surprising really, he was simply like this if he felt comfortable around you and they’d been friends way too many years for it to stop now.

"Hey wait isn't that _Jim's_...?"

"Yup, got it for safekeeping."

" _Safekeeping_." Clearly his innocent intentions are not being believed in the slightest.

Eli is levelled with a _look_ that could be taken as a, yep it is, before he's taken with the far more important task of keeping the pin hidden from view. It takes a few seconds of contemplation before revealing a lyric video in the browser app that was clearly paused midway through as though he'd been distracted by something and never got chance to go back to it again. The words glare up from the screen in a ridiculously fancy font overlaid upon photos of sunsets.

 _~ You're not there_ _~_

_~ To celebrate the man that you made ~_

The sight of them immediately makes him feel super uneasy despite not really recognising the song in question and honestly he’s not particularly wanting to find out either so he taps the offender out of sight though as soon as the transition to the main screen happens he cannot help but to break into a massive grin at what the home screen is set as. The Trollhunting trio are there posing together under a streetlight with arms around one another with no weapon or armour in sight looking roughed up with a number of bags under their eyes yet still wearing expressions of being on top of the world and laughing the night away.

"Aww _look at dat_ he's using the photo we got! That doofus, thought he had the one of Claire helping with building work or did when I last looked." The phone is tilted enough so that Eli can get a proper gander and hopefully dissuade wedging himself _quite_ so close to his face though it fails miserably.

"Oh wow you must have had a really good mission that night! They both look more tired than you though, um, if it's okay to say."

"Ugh yeah. See they keep _insisting_ on taking my patrol shifts so I could have more date nights with Darci without all the craziness and they could use it as theirs instead because battle couple or however you want to spin it. When Claire decides something gooood luck making her change her mind, seriously she's ruthless. The debate team debacle last semester was but the merest hint of the true might of Nuñez on the warpath and having experienced it I say run for the hills or agree."

The other boy jostles a bit on the perch he’s snaffled with his awwing which might explain why Toby sticks his tongue out while daubed with the lightest hint of red at the idea of being cooed over.

"We could help you guys out too! That's what the Creepslayerz are for, defending the streets of Arcadia from creepers! You do enough by yourselves so why not let us try and take some of the slack too, pleeease?" His voice is literally bursting into excitement at the idea already rambling onwards with suggestions of how they could that starts to blend into gibberish to his ears. 

It's kinda weird how this is the same exuberant innocence that they once had in their _own_ early Trollhunters days where everything was still one big adventure into a magical world and even despite how scary it could be at times no matter what everything they did always felt _possible_. Sure you'd end up a bit battered or bruised afterwards, a sprain here or needing to dabble in medicinal troll remedies to help cover up the worst sometimes but belief felt enough to keep spirits up and knowing that it'd would all work out okay. Being terrified half out your mind was only gonna be temporary from Draal to Bular… 

Then AARRRGGHH took a blow for him that still comes up in nightmares when he was turned to stone, Jim vanished into the Darklands leaving them all behind to pick up the pieces of both their own lives and the other losses in Trollmarket caused by an angry soulless assassin. It was starting to get harder and harder to ignore reality after that, no amount of optimism and wilful denial can make light of being confronted with so much **rampant** death and destruction that never seems to stop nor the knowledge that an impending doom that is gonna arrive on their doorstep any day. The stress alone is murder given nobody bothered to hand them an expected by date.

These two are genuinely clueless to how bad things really are and honestly they should stay that way as long as possible or even forever. This stupid war Jim got dragged into that they followed until they fell down with him by an old man with a serious attitude problem has claimed enough lives and they’re still in freaking high school! Not even adults! God knows he's gonna need therapy afterwards assuming they survive whatever comes next, all three of them will and lots of it. But he can't _say_ any of that because it'll cause too many questions to be asked so it’s better to go for more innocent well, not _lie_ necessary but use genuine reasons that it ain't happening. Particularly now he’s getting a look of concerned confusion for stalling this long so his head is whirring away with how to anticipate the upcoming answer.

"Look, Eli? I _swear_ it's not because we don't trust you guys or anything like that but I have like this genuine fear that Steve would try and punch a troll _again_ unless under your direct supervision at all times. Well there's that and your mom has you under such a strict curfew that she'd probably hunt me for sport if it got broken and found out I was the cause," he says while motioning towards his neck particularly before distracting himself with the far more important task of dealing of the phone. A couple of taps leaves him beholding the sheer deluge of texts waiting there which are notably all written entirely in caps that for bonus fun apparently seem to disintegrate in coherency as the amount of them grew. How was Jim ever putting up with this??

"Oh wow there's like _thirty_ of these things jeez." 

"Aww she's not that bad! She just gets a bit stressed with work and worries besides she likes you, Jim too even if he never came over that often. She's been asking when we're gonna have a movie night again after you had to cancel though since then I’ve-"

And with that he's off and rambling about a film Steve had picked up recently and recommended in hushed whispers. It was a horror film with zombies apparently but not how you’d expect even for non-western cinema! The plot keeps twisting to keep you on your toes while really making you root for them to get out alive as they’re increasingly boxed in on the train car not at all noticing Toby is in fact distracted thanks to the odd sounds of non-committal he makes with the odd ooh or aah for good measure in the right places. The other teen is far more focused on skimming the message deluge for any tidbit that _didn't_ contain vague threats that the recent ones all the while wondering why exactly he needed Jim so badly in the middle of the damn night. Well he says middle the timestamp says it was really before 1am but still it’s the principal!

_Wait_

_Waaaait... Hold the phone - Uh, literally?_

It's scrambled across about five different messages _because of course it is_ with outbreaks of what can only be described as keyboard smashing in between but from there he slowly manages to piece together is that some form of ‘creeper’ with bright red markings showed up on the lamppost outside then disappeared before he could grab a decent photo of it. Hm, glowing kinda suggests something on the magical side but _red_? That's a new one, all the Gumm-Gumms running around are always in greens as far as they knew less they decided to have a bit of a wardrobe change with Morgana being out. Weiiiird.

Though strangely enough it does give him an idea about what to do with the Creepslayerz or at least give them something a bit safer side to be on with if something _else_ is running around out there in the afterhours that may or may not be aggressive. Steve's bragged before about them setting out to keep an eye on things in the name of protecting Arcadia which they could let slide before but now with a Trollhunter down and stepped up patrols it's a helluva lot more risky to do.

"- _And_ that's before the car chase happened! I witnessed one of the most beautiful acts of drifting I have ever seen in my life and I want to, nay I _aspire_ to be that good one day!" He's barely stopped to breathe the entire time gesturing ever more wildly and nearly straight up rolling off the borrowed a couple of times now from the weight shift. Honestly the sheer enthusiasm Eli's giving off is contagious enough to make even _him_ smile despite he’d only half listening and must have missed a film change somewhere in the middle of it but man it’s a bit like age old times and it is kinda nice. Sensing his impromptu parrot is winding down he gives him a gentle nudge to politely interrupt without derailing, a system they'd worked out when his attention needed bringing back into the moment that'd be subtle enough nobody else had to know about it. From the hearty lungful of air that is drawn it might not have been all that bad timing for it either. He gives him a few more seconds before asking the all-important question.

"You all good?"

"Yep, thanks so much for listening!" Comes the answer with a thumbs up and a quick adjustment of his glasses again after they’d decided to try and make a proper break of it while mimicking a salute the lead actor must give before a race.

"Did you find what you're looking for?"

"I have absolutely no idea what it means buuuut we'll figure it out I'm sure. Far more importantly, you still up for your own little mission? It might not seem like much I know but the small things add up just as much plus the upside is you two will get to hang out with trolls for a bit, ask Blinky anything you want _and_ won't be interrupting their night if that sounds all good?"

Eli listens in awe absorbing every scrap of detail that Toby rattles of the plan doing his best to sound epic as possible while walking side by side ensuring to switch to hushed whispers if anybody looks to be getting too close for comfort. He'd text over the location and the duo can head there _straight after school_ , no exceptions, to check in on everybody, find out exactly what happened there last night and maybe the added bonus of cooking up something to stop the Conundrum locking himself out his phone every other day. It's a win win for everybody.

After one super-secret handshake which is a classic _and_ an essential to the drone of final bell ringing they head off to their respective classes with one overjoyed and head running a million miles with ideas once again while the other far more sombre about the possible educational doom in the form of a pop quiz that could ambush them all in the next ten minutes. Just in case the worst should happen be it him crashing out or the threat of summer school is dangled Toby fires off one last message whilst secretly praying the teacher will be in a merciful mood.

_Hey CB? So theres een a change of pln_

~~~

Later he will freely admit he knew that round two of this particular conversation was likely to come seeing as Barbara levelled him a _look_ as soon as he's within her sight after descending the stairs though it still manages to make his nerves hitch into a silent panic and one which only worsens from the way she says nothing afterwards. No, instead he is otherwise ignored for heading into the kitchen with a tray and contents taken away earlier only adding to the growing tension of a lurched stomach. Nomura is at least fast asleep by some miracle or at least making the effort to pretend to be so thus in truth there is no reason at all for his legs to feel like lead when her weight is no longer pressing on them and yet here it is anyway. His chest compresses just enough that he wonders if this is what a student about to have a scolding feels like which is absolutely ridiculous for a creature of his age and manner!

"Walter."

And yet with that stern tone, a hardened expression and the body language to match while hovering over edge of the breakfast bar it just might be. It's a get over here right now sign if there was ever one that was more than clear enough that any dallying will not be tolerated so after swallowing the uncertainty down then stalling further by gently tucking the blanket edges around the other changeling he forces his body to comply and walks onwards to his fate. He is a little distracted by his own admittance in how the good Doctor appears to be while pulling the two wings of the divider together to give them some measure of privacy, while there is no escaping the heavy wear around the edges with sleeping struggles evident in her eyes and red strands that that refuses to quite sit where desired, there remains the fierce defiance of hers that ordered the fabled Merlin about prickling under her skin ready to burst at any given moment and his breath hitches for a second time when blues catch him in the act of admiring. There is not even the faintest hint of a smile this time and his mind is a whirr with unspoken apologies ready for the unintended transgression via the _second_ distinctly uninvited guest to the household.

"Explain. Now."

Perhaps it will be in his favour that an air of sheepishness descends over him before words manage to come together, one can only hope.

"Ah, again please forgive me for extending _your_ hospitality without asking. I swear to you it was important and not on a whim or a fancy," he states with the most calming tone to be mustered while palms are pressed together.

"I wished to keep her in the loop in regards to the current situation with young Atlas, however there was another very _particular_ conversation we needed to have that could not have been done over the phone and one that by irony he had intended on giving himself. Nomura is someone I can personally vouch for both as a commendable ally and fighter if a little coarse in manner much of the time."

It was not the answer she was wanting to hear from the way her feet adjust their position for a stronger posture and a straightened back.

"Last time I saw that woman you _graciously_ loaned my sofa to she drugged me did you know that? In my own home no less before attacking my son in fact it reminds me of somebody _else_ who did something similar."

_Oh no_

He knew about it of course, it'd been mentioned it off-hand after disobeying his orders to keep her head down until things settled down after her existing blunder but _no_ her pride won out and she struck out regardless of the consequences. The exact answer of how the Trollhunter had managed to ward her off remained a closely kept secret until recent weeks of forced endearment loosened lips and had become a point of humour between them. Had. Murder was becoming mightily tempting all of a sudden.

"Now it could be the fact I've spent half the night awake worrying about everything that's been dumped on my doorstep by people who should damn well know better but I am finding it rather funny that much like _you_ the Curator of the museum ended up back in Arcadia though in comparison has the audacity to not bother apologising or even trying to make amends. While your own attempts were horrible I _can_ say you tried and yet somehow in that brain of yours with all the intellect you claim to prize thought this little act of charity was remotely acceptable?" He cannot for the life of him recall when she was suddenly so deep in his personal space with voice low tempered with the resentment that clearly had stewed over breakfast without an outlet until this very moment. Her finger nearly touches his nose with each time the words need the emphasis to drive the point home and it takes all his self-control to not reactively flinch.

"What, pray tell, was so damn important you had to have this Nomura in my _house_ instead of sending her back off to whichever rock she crawled out of?"

Once again the most renowned of changelings quite summarily wilts under the piercing gaze of a Dr. Barbara Lake now baring down (Up?) on him knowing this time he had actually earned it.

"The situation is a mite complicated..."

"Then **un** -complicate it."

"Barbara I, hmph. _Please_ understand that I do not know the full details of how this came to be as I was never privy to such information nor can I be as through as you would likely prefer, alas I must submit that once more your son or Mr. Domzalski will know far more but as you wish I will endeavour do my best to give you the shorthand version," he answers now wringing his fingers together with an attempt at appeasement upon his face for what little it helps.

"At some point or another you gained a troll in your basement who by irony was the former Trollhunter's very own son and he was known well to us here on the surface being related to ‘the enemy’ and such a _prideful_ beast very much like what you would consider a jock archetype in demeanour. Draal and Nomura in a far more innocent time were incredibly close though it did not end amicably, such is the risk of a changeling attempting to gift their heart to another for we burn so brightly that when the expected happens to us on discovery the scars run their very deepest." The pause is a thoughtful one allowing for a risky glance to the person in question before returning his attentions to a woman unmoved.

"But even through all the hatred and spite that only _recently_ managed to mould into something far more along the lines of bittersweet thoughts of loss you cannot imagine, not even once, that you could wake one day to find a world where they are no longer part of it and that your final chances to speak of your own heartache are now lost to time and sorely missed chances. He gave his own life to ensure that Jim would **live**."

Blue eyes widen a fraction and he can almost _feel_ the anger begin to melt away with the innocent chewing of a lip wanting to interrupt but not quite daring to.

"You even met him once if not in the best circumstances, though I am quite unsure if you may recall? Alas for a case of uh _mistaken intrusion_ he did not put his best foot forward and you happened to pepper spray him in the face in retaliation... A bit of a bastard with the terrible timing and even worse habits it's true, but to his death he truly was the very personification of an honourable troll and much may have unfolded far _differently_ without his presence in many lives than I think even he had realised."

Oh how _easily_ could the infamous Deadly have been yet another Bular running around and seeking only the death of their young Trollhunter without any reason to turn a fist away given his well-documented dislike for humans _and yet_ somehow, like so many others had done before and after, he too chose to allow the teen to keep the mantle despite how much it must have pecked endlessly at his conscious until later reaching the stage of coming to his aid willingly. He will concede however to not be having any regrets at all for sassing the troll in this very room, quite frankly he deserved it for having such a filthy mouth.

"She needed to know and for whatever you may think of me for how I chose to say so I could not in good conscious leave her in the dark with what is to come only to find out in a far worse fashion. I may have been a terrible mentor and worse friend in many ways but I owed her the truth. I will ask her to leave when she awakens so you can be more comfortable however, the overstaying was an unintended side effect of the hour rather than any potential malice."

The Doctor leans ever so slight to the side to see for herself where the person in question still lies while her own hands balled into fists with the fraught battle of indecision whether to snap or not crosses her brow. Then comes a deep breath, a second smaller one to solidify a choice made and to force shoulders to untense and then an answer follows while fingers have now begun to pick away at the hem of her shirt revealing the remnants of uncertainty.

"No, I don't think you'll need to just... I personally don't feel comfortable with _her_ alone in this house or with me, if that makes sense."

"More than fair. I trust that Betivg has permission? He _does_ have a habit of frequenting here without warning admittedly though I have been asked to mention that an offer has been made to help keep an eye out while you're at work if I need to be out for a little while. The wine will be hidden too, utterly notorious little raider that he is."

The fidgeting stops, her face is one of puzzlement and a crinkle in her brow.

"Walt, I have _no_ idea who you mean."

Cocking his head to one side Strickler cannot quite fathom where the confusion might lay after all it's not like he's particularly, ahem, _subtle_ in appearance nor in attitude before the potential culprit occurs to him with a snap of fingers.

"Ah! My apologises, I believe the children have chosen to refer to him as _Not Enrique_ because of how they originally discovered him. The little imp was with us during their tomb excursion giving the Nuñez parents quite the scare at the time you may recall whelp sized, a similar green to mine with yellow eyes and I believe he may have asked for milk at the time to go with the cookies?"

Barbara starts making an indistinct gesture with her hands in a valiant attempt to indicate height to which she gets an approving nod then within another beat a fresh scowl begins to unfurl with all the aura of an irate parent and it would not be remiss to admit he's rather glad _this_ one is not directed his way.

"Wait wait hold up. _Jim_ of all people should know better about using a given name."

"Now you will have to forgive him for that one as Trollmarket would have, hm, insisted I suppose you could phrase it as? On less than favourable views of changelings thus the thought likely never occurred to him indeed I could correct him in regards to myself for instance but I've seen little point to bother. It is simply something we're accustomed to for those outside our little circle and I would suggest not judging him too harshly for it."

The way she looks halfway ready to defend against the ridiculousness is somewhat heart-warming as much of the novelty of a human being willing to though there must be a certain sense of irony when it comes to the politeness of backstabbers but then nobody would quite know the importance of a _name_ quite like one of their own, be it one chosen or one earned. There is likely a talk in one particular teenager’s future on the subject which if he should be so lucky might even get to bear witness to but that can be tabled for a better time to muse over. She looks content enough to raise hands in defeat on the subject for now and then in a rather surprising turn of events with what had already happened simply gives him a gentle pat on the shoulder then slips away to see about loading the dishwasher with the last of her anger on an ebb. It’s a strange feeling to be, is trusted the correct word? She’s keen to stay away from Nomura understandably yet is not insisting she be shooed out immediately suggesting she expects him to keep his word despite the out given and _oh_ what a marvel such a simple act is.

"By the way I didn't actually thank you, for not disappearing off in the middle of the night on us I mean. Think it's the least I can do owing you some breakfast that I can't exactly _promise_ how well done it may or may not end up being... Oh! There is some emergency cereal in the cupboard unless you want to join me in the department of leftovers?" She asks while pushing the door closed then gives it an extra tap to ensure it clicks pointing to the location in question with the other. Ideally it should be run now he reckons but then there's one plate at least still unaccounted for but it’s likely she is thrilled at talking to the wizard again as much as he is presently.

"Nothing too fancy I'm afraid being cornflakes, been a terrible host haven't I? Though I hope this better to ask forgiveness instead of permission stops pretty sharpish because I _don’t_ want it to start becoming a trend.”

The cough is light thoroughly guilty as charged and noted as something to be rather mindful of.

"Given the circumstances being as they _are,_ I would say that you're holding up admirably and I might yet take you up on that rather tantalising offer of breakfast. However if I may be bold enough to enquire about a concern of mine even though it may, ah, be stretching across the line a bit." The pause is fragrantly stalling for time though hopefully not in a way that could be misconstrued as one of insult.

"To be blunt I had believed your son was still on medication to help with his anxiety, will this current _absence_ cause any issues with that?"

The changeling braces himself for the worst and yet is instead rewarded by a surprisingly neutral tone.

"... Then I'll ask first, why did you even consider that it might be an issue?"

"I realise how _bad_ it might sound but I can assure my reasoning is entirely innocent! I was and always have been dedicated to my human work not only for the sake of appearance but for the enjoyment of making even a small difference to young lives. As the Principal I had access to more personal details of all the students with his particular case listed on his notes if there might be a risk of conflict with the medications should anything be given at nurse's office you see," he answers while trying to keep his tone level and the return of placating hands.

"It is a little outside my expertise otherwise, far more your area than mine. I ensured however that those details were locked down further during my tender because the data protection was honestly frightful. My predecessor was not particularly technological inclined and it certainly showed in moments like those."

Barbara allows him to suffer in his thoughts long enough for fingers to begin to itch for something to hold as reassurance before choosing to indulge his curiosity.

"Jim slowly came off those ones some time ago after he claimed they stopped working though even _then_ I was suspicious if it was true or not but not that much longer afterwards he started to develop particularly vivid nightmares out of the blue and it didn't seem worth pressing any more. With supplements the current ones have a little bit of wiggle room on the time taken, _otherwise_ the next dosage is not until next week if I remember the calendar date right. He'll feel a bit rough I suspect but long as he gets back into the routine, doesn’t get too stressed and rests up it shouldn't last for too long."

The way her lips thin into a perfect line could be taken as a challenge though to what exactly he cannot possibly fathom for there was nothing obvious from what she said? She declined being specific though this seemed more than fair given who takes them isn't here to volunteer that information himself. Regardless there _is_ the time issue and the fact the Eternal Night is to come which will be a beacon for all forms of stress to come... Some further plans needed to be made.

"Small mercies of which we can only be grateful for at present. How much longer do you have by the way? Wouldn't want you to be late on my account assuming you are still as determined to go."

The complete change in subject matter shatters whatever thoughts she was having from how she is left blinking in open confusion followed by thankfully speedy restart allowing what is getting at to click. She dashes to the nearest clock display to double check.

"Shoot that flew! But ah your breakfast??" She asks shooting him a worried look from the microwave almost braced to grab something that could be nuked despite no doubt Jim has previously told her precisely not to do that. He gives her a heartfelt smile in return choosing to simply take a bowl down from it's cupboard and raise it to her as though it were a toast to health.

"I'll endure the humble bowlful I can assure you, go your patients need you _far_ more than I."

She dithers anyway, torn between wanting to object and a last-minute scramble before it seems the pressuring commitment of work manages to win out and off she goes out of the kitchen heading upstairs at the speed akin to that of a hurtling teenager. It feels strangely warming to an old soul that he was worth even debating over even if he was on the losing side of it though the atmosphere is swiftly ruined somewhat by the obnoxious snickering.

"Someone's got it baaaad." Comes a lyrical voice accompanied by a grin riddled with sharp teeth resting cradle formed by her fingers.

"Shut up, Nomura," he answers back with a glare then promptly ignores her for raiding the relevant cupboard for the sacrificial cereal and cutlery.

Barbara's return is a much quieter one in fresher makeup and brushed down hair though it is no less frantic in the way she darts about to collect her things including her mobile from where it'd been left charging first thing where it couldn’t tempt fate. Absently he watches as she goes to and fro seated once again next to Nomura now free from her faux attempts of a nap who has now decided to make a shameless grab for a morsel or six in his distraction, somewhat humbled as ever by the contrast of somebody who can be quite so scatter-brained _outside_ of work can switch a game face on at the drop of a hat so well that you'd never question a thing. Batting the well-manicured hand away on the second attempt at thievery he lowers the bowel to his lap and turns to his fellow changeling very deliberately ensuring that the Doctor is well within earshot collecting her keys. This _is_ for her benefit after all theatrics aside.

 _ "Eks Trollhunter's mumut palizena lu vogen ploksem lu esti tiks," _ he states with all the sternness of a well-practiced educator.

_ "Zott lu koppena?" _

Nomura glares back indignant wanting to fire back with a scathing remark but the fact he's decided to very purposefully speak in their own tongue makes her think better of it or at least for the price of another handful anyway much to his annoyance. The reply comes only after she loudly crunches a piece in half to convey her personal displeasure to the situation.

_... Feh, tam vo yorrena hi." _

_ "Yegla." _

Seemingly satisfied Strickler goes back to eating what has managed to survive to the oh so indulgent sounds of a dramatic huff beside him. Within another mouthful a handbag has been perched near his head prompting him to lean back just enough to see her looking down with a face more flushed than it had been only what felt like mere minutes ago. He can almost _feel_ the gagging motion being drowned out by the careful folding of fabrics pretending to be useful with a reasonably pleasant demeanour while under their shared host's scrutiny.

"Alright I _think_ that's everything. The keys for the front are in the kitchen if you do need to leave, promise me you'll call if anything happens?" Her voice is so earnest yet unsure whilst worrying her lip as much as the handles with guilt of the need for a distraction over endless waiting. If a little awkwardly, he manages to reach back to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Absolutely my dear, you have my word."

It takes everything in Nomura not to squawk in pure unadulterated _horror_ when after a thank you voiced with all the gentleness of spring Barbara gifts him a second kiss on the cheek in appreciation and offering one final warm smile before departing for the hospital thus finally leaving the pair of changelings alone again. Somehow everything had managed to come full circle to how it had all started the previous night what with a certain wizard hopefully contained and not making a nuisance of himself, the only real notable difference would be that there is breakfast rather than tea held in his hands and far more natural lighting though surprisingly having dark muttering about how disgustingly sappy he very much matches before.

Giving the bowl a tap with the spoon to garner her attention he speaks up with a shameless air of smug.

"You do realise, Nomura, we wouldn't even be _having_ this problem if you weren't quite so nosy, hm? Be thankful I gave you plausible deniability."

"Not _my_ fault that's where all the best fun and or blackmail material comes from, is it?" She snipes back placing the last of the tidied blankets to her side for whoever decides to deal with them because it certainly will _not_ be her.

"Your domestic tiff sounded interesting who am I to ignore it."

He shoots her a fierce look to just get one that would easily turn a human to quaking in fear from how unnatural it looked on a human face. Once a changeling...

~~~

It's weird to think there was a point in their lives that being thankful for a school day being surprisingly mundane would have felt like a form of sacrilege. There would be nothing to gossip about later for Mary plus with Darci now being out of season she had little to do and the canteen seemingly more entrenched in cliques than ever it would have felt like dying from boredom and yet here Claire was watching the outpouring of the other kids itching to prepare for their big debut tomorrow being exactly that.

Hell, _she_ should be getting excited about the Battle of the Bands right about now particularly with the bonus of seeing Ash Dispersal Pattern in person again after they utterly killed it last time she saw them play, maybe even making head way on plans for what they were gonna be doing next week with her girl friends _and_ her best friends to make sure nobody clashed too? But the reality is everything is stuck on a slow death march that only one other person here is even aware of and you're stuck hoping none of those lucky enough to be oblivious notices how brittle your smile really is. She barely realises he is there until Toby's hand slips into hers easily enjoying the reassurance that the grounding sensation of his presence grants as they stand on the steps like lonely sentinels left adrift with neither wanting to move, not yet, content enough to look over this innocent world that had been laid out before them.

"Sooo you managed to get out of it?"

"Yeah, said Mamá wants me to look after Enrique for a couple of hours last minute while she's held up at a work thing and they bought it. Promised I'd least try and come by later if I can slip away long enough but it's a bit in the air right now, figured that would be better in case we get held up."

"Sweet. We-ell on my end I chatted to Eli some more at lunch despite Steve getting all gobby with me, they're gonna ring me with the update so no risk of accidently setting off the mother and getting him grounded by accident as apparently she's got a sixth sense about him doing things she won't approve of. Mean to quote him, he doesn't want to end up crawling out the window during the day if he can avoid it because last time he nearly got caught."

"Sounds like her, Mrs. Pepperjack gets on _super_ well with mom think it helps her having a finger in the political pie for her own work. I can never tell if it's the stress or she's just... naturally a control freak? I dunno I try and avoid her whenever she comes over, I've already got one permanent strict parent vibe I don't feel like dealing with another one existing in my space."

They should be going by now and she knows it, mean it will take a while to bike to that end of town given they've chosen to go on foot just in case but her feet are refusing to budge even the littlest bit. There's been an ill feeling that's been sitting in her stomach since about two lessons ago that something is going to happen and the idea of moving will make whatever it is happen sooner than later. She's grateful he's not pushing her, truly, though it makes her wonder if he'd noticed the sense of foreboding hanging in the air too even though his face shows nothing other than concern towards her.

"We can stop off there anyway, if you want? Don't have to go gallivanting in the woods straight away mean figured it was a good way to let them feel they’re involved without getting near anything that could uh _eat them_ ," he says before letting out a ugh.

"I might have bet with Eli under the table too that Steve will somehow send the trolls into an uproar, he was going on and on about finding out if they had anything like soccer and having a human vs. creeper thing about when I finally tuned him out."

"Aww, it could be fun though? They probably would want more wrestling or that sort of thing with the whole macho display they generally have going on but hey it’s all perfectly watchable."

"I mean sure? Buuuut we all saw PyroBligst they don't do sports by half and I doubt even _his_ hard head could survive whatever they had in mind," he answers back with a grimace.

It's enough of a complete curveball to cause her to giggle and make paper-thin cracks in the icy grip of stillness that has infesting her bones enough so that she may gently drag the smaller boy over to where they left their bikes that morning despite the stiffness persisting for the tension refuses to melt. It is like a perpetual warning that whispers soon, soon, and without an answer to be seen.

"We’ve got enough clout I reckon we could save him.”

"Man I know pride goeth before a fall and all that but still, it’s Steve I’d be half tempted to leave him to it and sell the recordings."

He grins back cheekily to her quirked brow holding only a little bit longer before they both burst out in the first genuine laughter they’d had in felt like ages. Neither would _really_ let it get that far the idea of him wanting to chuck himself into the fray anyway much to every troll’s confusion simply managed to delight.

Toby had again offered to make a stop off when they had pedalled by and while she was grateful for it she declined saying it'd be better if they did what Blinky had asked of them rather than finding any more excuses to keep putting things off. Truthfully if prodded enough to answer she’d admit that she didn't completely trust Steve not to try jazzing up whatever they found over there if it was too boring for him but with Eli it _should_ stop him from rambling on about how another troll was trying to ply him off with treats like any good grandmother would in the name of a hopeful adoption and keep him focused. Then even on his own he could show hints of being a lot more than all the posturing like how we he simmered down from wanting to brag about playing Romeo all the time to genuinely enjoying himself getting really into it before the accident or even that day where they all had detention. At least Eli is a good backup if prone to doing similar himself.

"- _believe_ he still wants to assign us homework? Like it's the end of the semester man give us a break already," is grumbled while swerving closer again to dodge a drain before wobbling away a bit unsteadily.

"I think it's payback for the burrito and this is the returned slow tortuous payback for what happened to his insides."

A beat then another to remind her exactly where she is, when had they gotten so close to the bridge? Must be the lack of sleep doing it she _never_ zones out this bad normally. The handlebars are held even tighter.

"I've got a class with him tomorrow, know Mar's banking on him being nicer but by the sounds of things he'll be doubling down if anything so I’ll give the girls a heads up. Gimmie a shout if you want a hand with any of it too, kay?"

"See here I was genuinely considering just letting AARRRGGHH eat it and deal with the consequences later. Let the record state that my future self appreciates you a lot more than current me can put into words."

“Noted with an amendment that if any services are rendered _I_ get to pick the snacks.”

“Hmn hm, I _suppose_ I will allow it.”

Their pace continues at a steady clip along that familiar road until all of a sudden a rather odd compulsion claims the pair when tyres meet the line between a world above and the one below that declared they should slow until feet could safely touch the ground, dismount and then haul their bikes onto the pavement and walk. There had been no plan to stop here or even to turn it into a _strolling_ thing and yet somehow they had fallen into step accompanied by an unnatural silence side by side until halfway along the strange daze that had claimed them begins to fade. Perhaps it was simply the memories that were still deeply entrenched with the place that had done it, the habit of hurtling down the slopes towards a hidden world repeating where it was high up and safer in the sunlight?

_Or of a rescue that came when it was already over, the same one that had left Jim behind all alone._

“Ugh what’s he up to _now_?” The hiss of his voice snaps her out of the melancholic hum that made her palms crunch the handlebars again. When she looks over to him questioningly she finds him peering over the edge with bike leaning into his side to stop it falling over without a hand left to hold it steady and whatever it was really got his attention bad enough to bundle them tightly into fists instead. What little of his expression she can make out had soured into such a fierce scowl very out of place on the usually jovial one even with things as they are lately.

“What?”

“Merlin, he’s down there.”

Mouthing an agitated _what_ that goes completely unseen, her own bike is guided a little ahead to ensure the boy doesn’t end up boxed in and upon taking a gander herself to find it is indeed the errant wizard distinct as ever in the dark green armour is poking around on his hands and knees doing things that did not look even the slightest bit sanitary even from up here. Somehow it wasn’t too surprising because nothing about the guy was remotely normal at the best of times but it didn’t make it any less gross to witness. With an angry mutter of her own the shadow staff is taken from her backpack rapidly charging from the bristled anger before it even finishes extending.

“C’mon TP let’s take the shortcut and see what he’s up to _this_ time before somebody calls the cops thinking he’s an escaped reenactor who fled a retirement home or something....”

Only humans exit the void after taking a gamble to leave their things including helmets safely out the way just in case they end up being forced to make a break for it so that they can hit the ground running as it were. Both glance to one another with a horrified grimace as the so-called Immortal blatantly licks the _ground_ uncaring for his newly gained audience uncaring or even oblivious to their entire presence muttering and mumbling away to himself in a tongue that had an _edge_ of maybe English but not quite. Toby gives her another look with a vague gesture that could be taken as _seriously?_ Before letting out a noise of defeat when he gets shooing motion back resigning himself to being the voice of reason as the resident Merlin Handler of the group. What he gets for giving an old man a quesadilla and not trying to kick him where it hurts.

“So what even is your _deal_ , dude?” Is huffed over crossed arms.

“I mean you go and make Jim vanish into thin air and _now_ you’re licking cement for some reason, are there any other secrets you’re keeping from us?”

The older man merely dusts himself off upon standing and is suddenly in front of them within a couple of strides delicately taking the higher part of the shadow staff into his hands to peruse with a series of thoughtful noises as he turns it this way and that while pointedly ignoring the not so gentle tugs from it’s wielder wanting him to get off. Can’t he even ask first?!

“Oh, plenty.” Is the simple answer that is given and with another twist non too gentle twist to suit his inspections the weapon is finally released. His back is then turned to them with his arms folded neatly behind now presumably now satisfied with whatever the information he had sought from it completely missing both Toby’s glare and the strangling motion Claire makes letting it sit in the crook of her elbow to allow for it. She risks speaking up with a voice barely devoid of the amount of annoyance he was managing to cause by simply existing in their general vicinity.

“ _How about telling us_?”

While it could not be _seen_ , the way his head lifts ever so slight to roll his eyes must have been enough to convey the expression he now wore for surely the answer was obvious even to children? Alas it appeared otherwise as much as trying to talk back to their elders, such a strange century this is with even the basics seemingly forgotten.

“Then they wouldn’t be secrets, would they?”

With a mighty roar the earth it’s self responds before either teen gets their chance like an mighty act of censorship before any swearing could be uttered violently shaking so badly that it leaves both falling into the other’s arms in the struggle to stay upright not even trying to hide the cries of alarm. Even Merlin fares little better holding hands as wide as his legs for balance glancing between ground and air as if to properly parse the culprit in the most dignified way he can possibly muster in such strenuous circumstances until they ease into a shudder then cease as suddenly as it came. It is hardly a wonder he is the first to straighten up with a frown barely visible under the facial hair appearing even _more_ serious than he had been prior and such a difference to how one of them is heaving for oxygen while receiving reassuring noises by the other.

“Are those coming from Trollmarket?” Claire asks clasping Toby’s hand in her free one glancing between him and the wizard worry very evident in her voice.

“Worse, Morgana.” They barely catch the brief flicker of _something_ that crosses his features before it is rapidly buried to address them in a proper manner.

“It would seem that our time is rapidly running out to find our missing Trollhunter though I suspect he would have gone to ground for now which should be to our benefit.”

Toby shoots him a look, raising a hand to let her know not to worry because he’s _got_ this one then places it on his hip speaking with sarcasm utterly dripping from his core.

“Yeah yeah that’s all very well except the teensy little fact that _you_ won’t even tell us what you **did** to him! We’re kinda looking for a needle in a haystack except it’s Jim who won’t come home for some reason and could be anywhere in the entirety of Arcadia! Can you _at least_ give us an idea if you’re not even going to even bother helping us look?” It is met with an exasperated sigh as arms are tucked back into place for a more scholarly air to take place as though this had somehow managed to become a teaching moment.

“A doorway is both an entrance and an exit, it matters not where it comes _from_ nor where it goes _to_. Indeed, the pair of you know the lay of the land far better than I and thus the best places to look in that respect. I however will be best suited in preparations here for I doubt this area will remain safe after the sun has set.”

Two sets of eyes stare at him in sheer disbelief and Claire holds Toby’s hand a little tighter in solidarity deciding that this time she would take up the slack for calling him out.

“… _Seriously_? That’s it?”

Alas it appeared he had now completely lost interest in the conversation from how they are dismissed with a simple wave for strolling in the direction of the blank wall where they had once used to enter the Market uncaring whether he was overheard or not. Resisting the temptation to throw a crude gesture his direction for holding the same hand in front of Toby with a shake of her head deciding it simply wasn’t worth it, a portal is summoned so they can get out of here before one of them really did something they couldn’t take back. In the moment just before she slips through behind him she happens to catch a final mutter that had Claire not been so keen to leave might have otherwise have caught her interest

“That boy best be behaving himself I swear.”

The remainder of the trip was entrenched in a thicket of thorny silence that did not begin to abate until feet once again stood on earth safely away from any trace of Merlin. Even afterwards they still needed to vent the worst of it out their system silent gesturing occasionally in case somebody driving by happened to hear how much they wanted to Rule 3 an old man until he coughed up the information they wanted and given at least one car passed this turned out to be a wise choice. From there it hadn’t been more than ten minutes since they were forced on head on foot after leaving their bikes at the outskirts in a vague direction hoping that it might be the right one thanks to Blinky’s rather vague instructions of ‘darkest part where the roots are at their thickest’ which wasn’t particularly helpful leaving them to wander blind while hoping for the best. They walk separately between the trees lacking any clear paths to follow trying to keep one another in sight as best as they can with their phones ready for emergencies trudging their way along. The further they went the more the chance to chat seriously while being safe from being overheard became enjoyable though they both skirted around the subject of whatever Morgana was up to and the confirmation that the out of place quakes was very much her doing. Ignorance was bliss.

“Man these places were so _not_ designed for my stubby legs,” Toby groans while pulling his shoe out of yet another root knot that thought it would wear it far better.

“Anywaaaays as our resident riddle answerer extraordinaire any idea what the heck Merlin was smoking or you as clueless as I’m feeling right now? Because he started talking about doors and my brain was just outta there so fast.”

“I’m really not sure… It _probably_ makes perfect sense to him and my gut reaction is he expects us to find another bathtub in Arcadia? Maybe? I don’t know he might have been talking _metaphorically_ not literally and I’m just too sleep deprived to figure it out which brings us back to square one again either way. I do miss when it was pretty straight forward about what we were supposed to be after.”

“Oh speaking of sleep deprivation you’re a bit smudged by the way,” he answers pointing towards his eyes then continues throwing his hands up as he goes on.

“It’s that stupid middle thing again tho if with a nice change of scenery literally but otherwise we’re with no more idea what we’re after than we started except _now_ it’s on two counts! Ugh c’mon world give us some good news here the highlight of my day so far has been planning what to treat Wingman too to make up for not being over last night my bar is seriously that low - Wait no there was a couple other things including Darci thinking about risking me coming over too but still!”

He's given a quirked brow though was waved off about the makeup not seeing the point of doing a fixer when it’s only going to end up more of a mess out here though the smile he received is given a finger wagged right back knowing exactly what she probably wants to say.

“ _Hush you_ her dad’s still mad about the whole accidental theft thing even if he’s keeping on the down low about it and I like being able to talk to her without the impending doom look.”

“Heh _that_ aside maybe Blinky will have something for us? I’ll even take peace of mind at this point.”

“Things are bad if you’re the one trying to be the optimist, Claire bear, gotta say.”

They had somehow drifted close enough that shoulders could be nudged for that one perhaps a little too sharply from her but he must have expected it from the hand to his chest and aghast expression earning soft giggling beside. He’s probably playing it up deliberately given how the same is peeled away by the other and also given the finger wag treatment to think about what it’s done to make her laugh even more but it doesn’t make it any less sweet how he keeps trying to find little pick me ups despite being as tired. He's like a constant ray of sunshine that might sputter sometimes or slip into the realms of snark but never quite stops trying. 

For some reason thinking that makes her face feel a tiny bit warmer though as if bang on cue to ease his way into a distraction he begins to hum as if needing to have a proper build-up for a few seconds starts talking with an almost lyrical quality.

“Annnnd here we are, we've just begun and after all this time, our time has come. Yeah here we are, still going strong right here in the place where we belong stuck in the dark with no idea what to expect as nobody bothers to give us a torch~”

It so perfectly catches her off guard making eyes go wide looking at the boy beside her who seemingly hadn’t noticed a thing until she grabs his attention with an all-important question because _what_.

“Wow where did all _that_ one come from, TP?”

“Oh now I can take no credit whatsoever here because I shamelessly robbed that from a film I was strong-armed into watching and given it’s mostly a bunch of well animated horses I’m still surprised how much I actually enjoyed it? Then some relevant rambling because ignoring the most obvious rabbit hole the point is we’re gonna have our very own glory moment finding Jimbo or the trolls hunkered down _, preferably both_ , then we can all focus on stopping the world ending before the next Gun Robot gets chance to release. Call my priorities shallow _I_ call them sensible in the prospect of facing death while generally being annoyed about life in general.”

“Please mine are seeing sticking around long enough to Enrique walk and helping dazzle the world with Mama Skull tomorrow while not worrying for a whole five minutes, can either dream big or be sensible and I’m sticking with the latter right now.”

Perhaps it was childish, the desperate need to desperately hang onto humble dreams of their previous ignorant lives more so than ever, but with everything as it was having a single rock to hang onto in the tide can be enough to keep you from being swept away that bit longer when you have nothing else going for you. A fist is offered and held there until it is bumped back with a gentle tap, a reassuring reminder of the bond rekindled after having taken yet another blow at the bridge with a wild goose chase thrown in for good measure. They could do this, they could, it just would suck an awful lot less if they had a clue or some sort of sign that they were on the right track… It’s what makes the separation more reluctant this time and why they stall for perhaps a few seconds too many doing it until the knowledge that simply standing here and wishing the world away will gain nothing but worries from those waiting up on them gives them that final push.

With nothing left to hold in them be it her staff or the warmth of another hand Claire’s fingertips begin to grace the bark of a young oak whilst passing, absorbing the coarse texture of nature that the stories she was read to as a child would claim were full of spirits watching over the land. There was something humbling _almost ancient_ about the idea with now knowing that there were a lot more supernatural things running around she could have ever once dreamed of. They are the unasked witnesses to history and here they were two teenagers walking through a forgotten graveyard while laying down their own for the records. When it meets air again it drops until it is taken in gratitude by another, and then another uncaring for the light stains of lichen or scraping itch because somehow the contorted sameness is a solace. She can hear his footsteps drifting again trying to keep away from the roots yet somehow managing to find every single one when shoes scuff the ground a bit too hard letting another sense sit comfortably with something to acknowledge between that, the echoes of bird song, annoyed muttering and eerie stillness of the leaves.

Jim had mentioned it once of how while it might sound ridiculous but it was a way of helping calm you down when anxiety flooded your system because even when it gets _super_ bad it can be tricked with textures or sounds to distract it if you can catch it fast enough? Everyone has them at some point he’d said, some people are unlucky enough to have the fight or flight reflex jammed on all the time which he’d a pretty bad draw on that front and thought that it might help her after the whole thing with the goblin house invasion. It _is_ hard to ignore the fact that the blues of the sky seem to be slowly disappearing the further they press on but it could well be her imagination though even with saying that it does not stop her from biting her lip anyway because natural or not she knows well enough what they can mean. Her feet are seeking for the warmer patches of light away from the dark before the thought even occurs to do it.

Checking up on for what felt like the twentieth time at some point between this and the last Toby had fallen deep into thought walking solely on auto pilot with barely any awareness of what was going on around him other than the bottle that had since appeared and was now half drunk. Wasn’t water that was for certain from the colour, he must have swapped it out for an energy drink at some point and she’s half tempted to ask for some herself when another yawn tries to catch her first. Must have noticed her looking out the corner of his eye from how he cants his head to one side in question.

“Hey so can I be straight with you about something?”

Claire responds with the most deadpan expression in the known universe simply gesturing up and down to herself but even that cannot hold back the laughter when Toby facepalms and drags it down past his chin with a defeated groan.

“ _Oh my god_ I totally walked into that. Okay for serious though it’s about Jim and with how stupid that brain of his can be sometimes. I, hm, spent some during night wondering about six different things but one of them was about if the reason he hasn’t come home might be that something is scaring him off?” He says while putting the cap back on and stuffing it into his backpack.

“For context I remember back when we were kids loooong before he got diagnosed how out the blue one day he got like _super_ paranoid about going home because he was absolutely convinced if he did something this awful thing would end up happening, we’re talking _thrown out the house_ level bad. I ended up going over with him as moral support after half an hour of trying to bring him round because of how worked up he was going but it was like all the logic got sucked out of him? There was Option A which was bad and Option B which was even worse, anything good simply didn’t compute.”

While looking very nonchalant about this retelling she in stark contrast is trying desperately to not let her emotions slip beyond how her hand presses against her chest. She knew he could get them bad sometimes, heck she’d even _witnessed_ a few of them but to have one where he was left scared of his own mother? It didn’t really add up at all; he adored her and could barely ever say a bad word to say even about the infamous kitchen disasters that were becoming legendary between the three of them.

“Did it all end up going okay…?”

“Hmmn? Oh yeah the entire Lake household including me ended up crying our eyes out it was therapeutic really because man the relief was real all round! If you want all the details mind gonna have to ask him yourself bit too personal to second party it you know? I’ve been turning this whole recent thing over in my head a lot and I don’t know the complete contact cut off reminds me a lot of that and because a medieval Welsh dude is hardly about to grasp the idea that brain chemistry is not something you go poking about is he?” He retorts while kicking aside a fallen branch before it can even dare trying to trip him up causing it to bounce out of one of the scarce patches of sun that still bled through the thickening boughs.

“Boy that must have sucked, you get depression in the 12th or whatever century and the doctor claims you’re infested with demons if a church has a stranglehold on your village. Think I much prefer the routine of trying to remember to take ‘em daily, promptly forgetting and not realising until the withdrawal starts kicking in. _The last finals week was wild lemme tell you_ I blacked out for most of it.”

“Pretty sure that happens to everybody to be honest, the not remembering a thing part I mean, the hyper focusing and pure stress does it.” The smile worn is slight not minding at all the tangent he’d started wandering off on. It would make sense though; sure they knew what the ingredients were but not what it was actually _making_ in the end, it could have easily triggered something though thinking that didn’t make the heartache any easier to bear nor the idea that he was dealing with whatever he was going through all alone terrified out of his mind. Then there’s the fun thing with Merlin only starting to act concerned only _after_ confirming the quakes were Morgana’s doing which was completely different to how unbothered he was acting last night about this “strangeness” that put the so called expected outcome horribly off course. Her hands ball into fists.

_I am totally going to punch that stupid wizard_

An odd sensation catches her mid-stride while she seethes, one that claws up from her toes swarming with a fine film over her entire body to the very tips akin to pins and needles if repackaged into a cascade until it leaves behind little more than goose bumps tingling in it’s wake and a phantom in her chest. Both feet plant on the ground while arms wrap around her body with a shudder wide eyed and left utterly baffled.

“Toby did you feel that…?” She whispers trying desperately to rub away the remnants below the elbow that disturbingly remind of whatever it was that had happened last night. A mental note is added because _once_ she could put aside from later but not _twice_ and their old teacher **owed** them at this point, particularly her, and he was the only option she had with the other one top of the hit list.

“If you mean a sudden chill in the air then yeah that was super creepy and I for one did not appreciate it,” Toby replies with a grimace shaking out his hands like they had been dipped in something particularly unpleasant. The difference in reaction did not sit at all comfortably.

“No it was like this sort of static? I think? It was only there for like half a second now it just seems to be completely gone…”

“Well if it’s weird then it’s probably troll related and that means we’re probably on the right track! Tho more importantly you _sure_ you’re okay? Because you look like the living personification of someone walked across your grave saying, no offense.”

“Yeah… I, yeah no you’re probably right and it’s nothing. Mean it probably first clue we’ve had might be going the right way though I’d prefer just putting up a sign with an arrow instead of whatever _that_ thing was.” While unconvinced the hand that had been reaching for her shoulder falls away when she shakes her head not wanting to push her too much but it doesn’t stop the scrunch of a frown happening. Claire gives herself one last squeeze before dropping her arms back to her sides taking a deep breath inwardly thankful it didn’t happen again but it had left her feeling disturbed all the same and barely able to notice his concerned hovering. Bury it, put the persona you want to share with the world back on your face and deal with it all later, she thinks drawing on every bit of spite she can muster.

“Though on that not so fun note _have_ got something I wanted to ask you about that I want keeping between us if you’re up for it because I’m after a third ear I can trust to not look at me like I’ve lost it or start dis-ownership proceedings. Mean were already were on the subject of Jim and me growing up together out of season spookiness aside so figure hey why not? Need some normal teenager drama every now and again I think.” He’s locked his fingers together fiddling them back and forth like a fish mouth keeping his eyes ahead deliberately wandering at a slower pace to not leave her too far behind but keep a little distance between them anyway. As distractions go this one was certainly working to take her mind off even if it’s just shifting the worry.

“Soooo before anything else to give you a bit of context I _might_ have had a crush on Jim back when we were kids and he _does_ know about it as I told him though it never ended up going anywhere because being besties kinda came first you know? What he _doesn’_ t know is that nothing actually changed at least in the going away sense because personally I don't care what he looks like, Jim is always Jim and even if I _did_ I'm not shallow enough to say he should sacrifice being happy just to please me.”

There is another pause then as though he’s expecting her to shout something at him, make a comment or do _worse_ and from the way he turns enough to watch her there’s no hiding the surprise when none of those things happen for she only looks curious if anything before motioning with her hands as some gentle encouragement barely a step behind now having closed the gap to continue. Eyes narrow suspiciously not wholly convinced nothing will happen yet despite the hmn he continues forth anyway.

“It just feels like this stupid heart of mine has this whole block of apartments that I can put other people into and has a random assortment of occupants at any given time that I don’t always ask if they can be there in the first place? You got Jim in there obviously, Darci too who I love to pieces despite our early teething issues and a few other more mercurial crushes that flit about trying to make their mind up because of course they are but yeah everything always says you’re only ever meant have _one_ person in there at a time and that was it? Ugh this is so hard to explain best I got if I try breaking it down is I get crush plus speed runs and the world has too many good-looking people in it. It’s frankly rude.”

An arm is slung across his shoulders as casual as can be with a grin verging on impish when her chin skims over his shoulder causing a startled squeak and a face very much looking away already dreading where this might be going not wanting to give her a head start.

“Now would I happen to know any of these lovely people you’ve ever had a thing for then? An inquiring gossip hunter is currently available who happens to be yours truly must know!”

Toby’s face rapidly burns scarlet while any possible words completely desert him for spluttering noises while a hand is held to her own face in mock shock at anything that could be perceived as a name, the odd head shake and a _oooh you’ve got good taste there_ along with other similar comments as appropriate until he ends up covering his face with a resounding _noooo_ slipping out between his fingers. Through her laughter she gives him a tighter hug deciding not to tease him any further lest his head explodes but is not about to let him escape either. To the great shame of the world there is a sudden blare from his pocket that sounds like a horrid combination of fart noises and a certain blond’s voice yelling BUTTSNACK over and over in a surviving leftover of the infamous burrito induced detention day.

“Oh would you look at that it’s my phoooone!“ he deflects giving his cheek a pat to try and beat some of the heat away while grabbing his phone with the other holding it to his face as though he doesn’t know the exact person he’d set that to be the ringtone for when she looks at him amused from her perch.

“Thank God I can’t believe I’m saying this it’s Steve, I’m actually grateful to see Steve’s number no wonder the apocalypse is coming end already was nigh in Arcadia.”

“Wow this is sure a _thing_ to listen to, though not on silent?”

“What and risk his wrath if I missed it? I just hoped it wouldn’t be while we were hanging around with the trolls because I’ve had enough phones eaten or broken at this point they refuse to give me a decent plan anymore.” Letting out a muttered sigh he thumbs over answer and quickly switches the setting while holding it a little away from his face just on the off chance somebody forgets the concept of volume control and yells down it.

“Alright we’re both here in the middle of nowhere and you’re on speaker, things all good there?”

Rather worryingly they are greeted at first by silence, then the loud clattering of what sounds like a lid being slammed shut followed by the huffing noise of exertion of someone climbing onto something else? They both look at one another almost dreading what will happen next when a voice booms proudly through the speaker exactly how he’d expected.

“Sup dweebs this is _the_ Palchuk on the line bringing you the sweet deets from the weird crusty alleys of Arcadia! Yooooou got the one and only riding high as the nerds are talking shop and I stopped paying attention because the composites, _that even a word?_ Of rock dudes sounded pretty boring and there was a lot of poking around going on and I’m really not into that.”

Mutual horror is shared, not for the content though it was certainly a bit, it was more that from the tapping of a foot it sounded _awfully_ like he was standing of a dumpster even though they physically can’t see him. Before either gets a chance to call him out he steams on now with the edge of highlight some great conspiracy to the point she can almost picture him holding a hand to his mouth to speak behind.

“Apparently what we had here was a _dead body situation_ though they only let me, and Eli I guess, see this spooky pile of gravel they stuck in a dumpster and under a sheet for some reason which was lame. They got super upset when I sneezed on it then didn’t even offer me a tissue.”

There is then a sound of jostling and the faint sounds of somebody yelling which gets an indignant sound in return plus at least one set of rolled eyes.

“What? I did _not_ forget the coolest part, Pepperbuddy, I was just getting to it that’s all, the King of Arcadia Oaks will always deliver on his promises!”

She whispers the words, oh boy, to get a noise of agreement.

“Chatty here said you two should know it looked like a sword did it which is cool and all so guess we got some kind of sword wielding creeper running around? Guy who saw it said our dude pulled a Spiderman and booked it though so current bets are on a changething - What? - Okay _okay_ change _ling_ that’s a stupid word and will you stop interrupting me I’m trying to give a serious report here and you’re really cramping my style!”

At the sound of arguing breaking out Toby lowers the phone further for a reprieve looking at Claire like about ten years had been wiped off his life just for enduring the call so far and her expression isn’t far off a perfect match. A finger is held to her lips unzipping his bag to grab something not wanting to speak in case anything else useful gets a mention to the chaotic background noise of something about a freaky Nightcrawler alike and the soft rustling of branches that creak above them. The item is held out and after a quick thumbs up he coughs into his free hand to try and get Steve’s attention off the subject of whether Marvel was better than DC or not where it’d managed to stray in the space of forty seconds somehow. From the snapped _what_ it must have managed something.

“Now we really appreciate you relaying that info folks so if you could do us one last favour that’d be great then we’ll be out of your hair and you can go about with your evening. As much as I’d adore doing it I don’t want to risk cutting you off and I know you don’t have Claire’s number so could you send that photo over to Jim’s please? I’ve got it here with me.” It is given another jiggle showing the phone in question powering on.

“Well _she’s_ holding it but you get the point.”

“Wow Domzalski didn’t take you for a thief I thought you were meant to be friends,” bellows the speaker with pure offense and faintly in the background can be heard the words, _I said the same thing!_ That is very likely coming from Eli.

“Can people stop accusing me of stealing his phone today I’m looking after it!”

“Is that why Lame Lake Jr. refused to answer me?!”

“Dude you _literally_ sent a text wall made out of like fifty messages, I’d have ignored it too!”

During the increasingly fraught back and forth neither of them had noticed a blue hand that had been stretching as far as it can go from the precarious perch the owner currently sits, how it immediately pauses at the sound of a _very_ familiar Gun Robot text tone and holds a breath just in case while watching them crowd over his screen while the unnaturally loud sounds continue to come from the other end of Toby’s. Eyes flicker between both of his friends filled with concern about the fact they are talking about what happened right now and apparently there was a photo? Evidence? He doesn’t dare look at it, nothing from that moment had ever come back in the snatch of sleep he’d had before something had gone and poked him awake but the idea of it makes a strange sense of guilt come over him. Remains _shouldn’t_ be surprising, they had to be stopped before anybody got hurt but the nagging thought that it could have been someone he’d once known and he doesn’t even… Remember any of it. Trying to shake it out of his head does nothing to help and wait no need to focus. **Focus**. Just a little bit more to make sure they’re really here and not an elaborate phantom but _alive_.

With the lightest snort to force his concentration back where it should be finger continue to reach out until they just barely manage to grace a single hair clip wanting so badly to even have such a tiny thing as that when a knuckle strays cruelly into the light. It is snatched back with a hissed yelp, cradled close as is dared against the jut of the chest armour with jaw clamped tight lest anymore sounds manages to escape while ears struggle to remain fully alert in case either of them, or even worse the call, _heard him_. None of this is helped by how his skin felt like it had boiling water poured over it now easing into a painful burn at a speed which should be as impossible, the last of the glowing embers sparked from the injury that are coloured azure start going out one by one like ashes. Very carefully he retreats even further into the darkest spot by the trunk hoping none of it will be heard right as Toby starts looking around for the source of the odd noise having decided he had enough and straight up cut Steve off mid-sentence while he was rambling about the Tarron siblings and how Aja could kick his ass again anytime she wanted.

“Ugh now we got _woodland_ racoons round and about, great. They better not try and drop bear on us,” is grumbled, pocketing his own phone to peer at the photo Claire is still studying with her own thoughtful expression. She is zooming in and out of very spots that take her interest or the stray pixels around what had rather unfortunately covered the lens.

“Guess something went and spooked it. Anyway if we ignore the thumb over half of it I don’t think he did too bad a job? I mean you can actually see some of it which is kinda more than I expected.”

“Yeah we’ll have to take his word for it though there is only person we know about who uses a sword, they don’t seem a very common weapon with trolls? They seem to like those spears or something a lot bulkier I guess they figure Daylight won’t have a parallel anyway there’s not much point bothering. He could be onto something with a changeling mind if there’s any more in Arcadia I think Mr. Strickler was talking about putting word out before everything happened and there’s no way Ms. Nomura would be the culprit even putting aside the fact she uses two.”

“Man could you _imagine_ the uproar if she did?”

“They’re getting better about it but they would probably break out the pitchforks and torches out if they’d seen her there. Nothing about that red glow you said Steve mentioned either so I guess we have two mysteries now?” She is given a sound of acknowledgement as the pair start to press on once more knowing they shouldn’t get any further interruptions with one hand slipped into the other for moral support as much as anything barely thinking anything of it.

“Yeah like, hey world can you give us five minutes break here instead of setting us on all these side quests with no obvious reward that’d be great. Though damnit just realised I owe Eli ten bucks now.”

Eyes that are all too human with their wider pupils leans into a gap to watch as they unknowingly leave him behind while chatting away about any budding new theories and the relief that what happened at the Market was at least a positive even if it didn’t make all that much sense to them. He scarcely dares to move until they are beyond even his enhanced hearing to track without pursuing and only then when there is nothing left to dissuade it away from doing so does his heart make the alchemical shift to leaden weighing his chest so far down it’s a struggle to breathe correctly bowed against his knees. Doing the right thing hurts so much and it dredges all the nightmares that belong to a more foolish younger self he had left behind with his old body of flesh. They’ve got pieces of _something_ but no idea how to put them together and he’s unsure how to feel about that. Did it mean Merlin had lied to them about what he’d done like how he’d been simply abandoned to his fate where even the _sun_ could hurt him now without bothering to warn? Once more bark is clenched tighter under hands too strong to fend them off in his desperate need for _anything_ accessible while squirreled high above ground too stubborn to let this be the one stupid thing that finally causes a panic attack bloom. For several minutes he is simply huddled there, willing those harsh stutters for air to draw longer and allow him the air he desperately needs.

Unfortunately a growl that had been building behind his teeth abuses the fresh opportunity of breath to express his internal irritation of yet another thing wrong with him making his eyes widen in alarm before even more vigorously shaking his head than before in an attempt to rid it then opens his jaw wide as well as if to try and cough the last of it out his system. That’s what the _other_ him did and he wasn’t about to start acting like a beast now even if it happening ever so naturally along with the awful bristling sensation that happened around his neck. No this was another confirmation if anything that they simply cannot see him like this wild thing that could snap for no reason, _could hurt_ , he is simply too dangerous to be around people. It was a humble wakeup call too, one that whispered he was going to need to be a lot more careful from now on and stop leaving behind traces of a ghost for anybody to find. He lifts his head again wondering where they were heading off to before deciding against any temptation to find out, after all _it’s not much_ , he thinks, but _at least I know they’ll be safe here and I’ve already pushed things enough_. Knowing this fact alone will help lead him to an easy rest when he slinks off back into the safety of the thickest shadows that swell around the lake that nearly 24 hours ago that had gone and birthed a monster.

~~~

When Blinky had said “roots at their thickest” they had assumed he had meant the ground where roots are _meant_ to be, an understandable mistake but it made it no less bewildering seeing branches that had been grown then woven close enough to knot together above their heads to prevent much beyond a scant scattering of light to come through or other areas to be grown in far wider arcs to allow the same to flood into larger areas of their own preference. There was a dampness in the air too along with the scent of marsh and sounds of trickling water quite befitting on the river trolls who apparently dwelled in the area so far off the beaten track the worst they must have encountered is the odd hiker that strayed too though right now there was not a single soul to be seen. According to what they had been told, these guys tended to stick in smaller pockets, their size and needs much like those of volcanic trolls made them very niche rather than isolationistic like some other clans and none had lived permanently in the Market prior to the exodus either.

At least the ground was more solid than Florida so there was no gross slurping of shoes and while they shouldn’t have been _too_ surprised given the sun was just up there somewhere with the area having been engineered over presumably decades if not longer to give them more cover you would think there would be a little more activity going on maybe? Not exactly a greeting committee but two humans tromping around in your house poking the ‘furniture’ would get a bit of attention in most places. It felt lived in sure but only in the most primordial sense of a place that had been left to run wild with plant life and mosses covering random outcroppings of stone situated in ways that made little sense to them. Outside the smallest touches like tools and evidence hands had helped create carvings using too large fingers that gave the impression of a place occupied. Putting his own hand in one was like his very own Jurassic Park moment on a smaller scale and he quickly shuffles away for something else with a yeeergh because of a sponge acting plant was sitting in it too.

“Think they ever had bog bodies turn up out here?” Toby wonders aloud whilst clambering onto a rather hearty rock. It was covered in greenery sprouting the odd stalk and sat near the edge of what _looked_ to be a small pond edged with recently churned earth where he rather gleefully was using the boost in height while holding a hand to his brow to aid in hunting for any sign of life.

“Mean this looks the perfect place for it and nobody would ever knoooooow.”

“Listen it’s tempting and all but we throw Mr. Strickler in there or whichever part is deepest if and _only_ if Jim gives us the go ahead first.”

“Damn ethics you foil me once again.” The pout he gives her is jazzed up for the sake of drama as usual for alas! Though he quickly settles for peering down at the water where it is barely possible to make out his reflection through the murk so he gives his own cheek a good pat.

“Man either it’s being stirred up like a lot down there or somebody needs to do some house cleaning because mirror me does not have the most fetching mud pack look going.”

“That bad huh? Nothing the classic cucumber slices couldn’t fix I’m sure… You’re still welcome to girl’s night when we next have one by the way, already managed to convince Jim he’s overdue some pamperi-” Claire cuts herself off mid-sentence upon realising that what he is standing is doing a bit of the same.

“Uhh TP?”

“Listen if I can break out Nana’s pedicure kit then deal I’d be nice somebody doing that to _me_ for a change I deserve a bitta sprucing too,” he answers back wagging a finger without looking perfectly oblivious to the true cause of what actually caused the annoying wobble to keep his balance while he rises ever higher. Indeed it turns out it would be very much attached to something that is currently heaving their way out of the mud exposing ever more stones criss-crossing their back akin to a cadis fly all wrapped into a scary display of stealth for something so large.

“Toby!”

“What? I just-“ He lets out a noise that could only be described as a shrill squawk turning even higher pitched by the second as the body beneath him reaches their full height and lets out a large yawn with teeth fully bared and stretching their arms out much like a person would on wakening.

“Wait omigosh omigosh omiGOSH IS THIS A TROLL? AM I SURFING ON A TROLL RIGHT NOW?!”

 _ "Vo wemu _ovlenu,_ " _ they hiss sluggishly in reply. They begin to paw at their unexpected passenger who deftly manages to keep out of range dashing from side to side like a living see-saw which had the rather unfortunate side effect of increasing the annoyance in their bleary eyes.

“So I’ve no idea what you said but _super_ sorry my dude! I’ll be out of your hair - wait no uh your _stone_ in a second…?!” Is practically shouted while teetering near one edge desperately looking for a way down before swiftly deciding against that noise shooting her a pleading look before having to dodge yet another one that almost catches him on the heel.

“Claaaaaire help would be nice about now it’s like top of a wobbly ladder without any steps here and I really don’t want to slip or get smacked off and have to explain why I sm-“ A maw of a far different kind engulfs his feet then none too gently deposits him to her with an easy flick of her staff that her newbie days would have only dreamed of.

“-ell like I-“ Arms pinwheel for a few seconds before he manages to rock safely back onto the flat of both feet wiping his brow with pure relief getting a gentle pat on his back for the trouble.

“ _Thank you I owe you my life_.”

Their ears perk up though they are barely visible through the back decorations they carry, upon turning around they reveal flesh tinted blue spackled with mud and much smaller stones peppered across their torso and mosses naturally worn. Clearly it meant they were either ambush predators or something went after them enough they’d evolved to camouflage during their sleeping hours and were _very_ different from the regulars that was for sure and it raises the rather alarming thought that any of stone is sticking out the ground could also be a napping troll... While tempting to ask and find out for sure the way they carry themselves with a huff of authority and fist thumped against a blank space on their chest suggests _probably_ not the best time for it.

“I am Trisantona, child of our former matron Amnis, daughter of Milliard Floss and current leader of the Kiklaa. It is still humsween and a most tragic hour, why do you dare trespass?” They grind out with a glare, teeth deliberately kept on display as a threat expecting the children to balk. To their annoyance however Claire glances to Toby and he gives a subtle thumbs up back, formalities were never his bag anyway and well he’d _already_ made a pretty bad impression that it’d taker a master to salvage this one. The staff is tapped on the ground akin to the age old Vendel tactic used to command attention.

“I am Claire Nuñez and this is Toby Domzalski. We come to your home on the behalf of the current leader of Heartstone Trollmarket Blinkous Galadrigal. The Eternal Night is coming and you probably know it if you’ve felt any of the quakes recently that were anything but naturally caused,” is stated firmly but with authority of someone far older even if they remain unimpressed with twitching hands.

“While we’re not sure when it will be the simple fact is Gunmar _is_ out and now with the means to bring it here and we all want to ensure we’re ready for it thus we come to you in this time of great need request your aid in the upcoming battle.”

“Then where is the fabled Trollhunter?” They snap back with a snort.

“Surely if he wants to make allies of **us** he would come himself instead of a pair of useless fleshbags in his place or was his reputation so exaggerated only further since the old Warlord was allowed to walk free. I smell only cowards who seek to use us as fodder, not the warriors of even your sordid histories.”

_Wow that’s a low blow dude_

That thought is barely finished when she’s right back on them with a brand new fire blazing wild in her own hazel eyes.

“Well _excuse me_ but he can’t be everywhere at once and we’re his friends. Jim has put his neck on the line again and again for troll-kind and if we have any chance of surviving it’s going to take all of us pulling together to fight back not solely relying on one person to do all the heavy lifting for you while you stand back and tut away from the side lines about how it’s not being done right. He answered every call,” Claire hisses, planting her feet wide while glowering at the far larger troll while pointing the staff tip directly at their face not caring that it would look little more than an elaborate toothpick.

“So will you answer **his**?”

Their jaw falls slack and a look of distraught surprise manifests that this mere human, _a whelp no less_ , dares so boldly speak to them in such a way waving a weapon so tantalising near! Red eyes glance between the two noticing the other one had folded his arms to glare expecting an answer too and they find themselves faltering for a retort. With no obvious way out but to give them something they tap their chest coverings once more with a fist though clearly not thrilled to be doing so.

“Come the eve of klokaran’s reign it will be discussed, should agreement and willing be found then we shall come when you call. You have my word as Kiklaa and by the name of Trisantona.”

Toby lets out a sigh of relief allowing his hands to drop and takes the chance to grab for his drink again while muttering along the lines of _better than I expected to be honest_. She gives him a small nod then taps the staff again clearly not quite done with all the formalities though it does prove a fruitful distraction from getting uppity about his own actions.

“Good, we’ll take word back of your answer though we may return to hear your verdict sooner than then so I would advise you to have a verdict ready for when that happens. We thank you for your time and apologise for the disturbance we may have caused you.”

The river troll gives them a strange look for the offered apology having not expected such a thing after they had decided to barge in then start dancing on their head until they woke far too early though neither seemed to notice while they share the plastic thing and downing the contents of it in frenzied gulps. After making a sound soft as a stream loud enough to catch their attention when they lift their hand with palm held outwards.

“Beware the poisoned waters on this side of the veil and heed our words lest you discover why for yourself: _ Otzum ovlena uma eks karp kikla." _ Satisfied the exchange is complete and uncaring as to whether they might have understood or not, the troll turns back to the water and begins to dig into the mud with wide swipes of their arms keen to snatch even an hour more to avoid any further conversation with the beings of flesh and their sharp attitudes.

“Uh translation please?” Toby asks quietly looking blank pausing mid-zipping his backpack again. He’d already turned away from them because it seemed impolite almost to watch somebody sink into a mud bath and this seemed the better choice if they got uppity again who knows how much they could see and hear down there? That could go wrong six ways to Sunday for sure.

“I _think_ they said something about the water bringing death?” She answers sweeping her bangs to one side.

“I’ve not heard a couple of those words in a proper context before… Ugh might be worth double checking with Blinky and guess I will need to do a bit of a refresher when things calm down. Pretty fluent or not there’s still one or two things that trip me up sometimes I think because it’s not a regular conversational topic I can practice with.”

A finger is held up to her face and waved with a myriad of tuts.

“ _Hey_ , there will be no self-depreciation here you absolutely kill it, Claire Bear, and as I have nooo plans on drowning anytime soon we should be good right?” He declares volume slipping a mite above the volume level he was trying to be better about. Whoops.

“Now let’s get outta here this place is seriously giving me the heebie jeebies up to the attic then we can give everyone the latest updates, might even get lucky and you can still get to practice.”

With a warm smile of thanks given while her staff is twirled ready to summon another portal there is a stray thought that continues to chitter behind it like a feeling that something somehow was right there in front of them but she just couldn’t quite grasp what it was before it turned to sand and fell through her fingers into nothingness. Channelling the budding frustration into a better use instead by readying a portal straight back to where they had left the bikes earlier using them as a pseudo anchor she is none the wiser of yet another jigsaw piece falling into place. The mention of Mama Skull barely manages to register through the sludge.

~~~

Of all things that James Lake Jr. had done in his short life and that even includes his tenure as the latest in a long line of Trollhunters, breaking into his own house was _probably_ not something that would have ever occurred to him. To get out? Oh sure, slipping out the window to dodge an increasingly enforced curfew or to avoid being caught was a near nightly routine depending on shifts being worked but to get back _in_ he always used a door like a normal person and snuck up the stairs in a way that would make even Angor be proud of his stealth skills. Somehow it felt only fitting to be forced into taking an alternate route this time though, the one that went right beneath everyone’s noses where it kept them at a safe distance _away_ from him. Those snatched hours of rest had made him no less selfish in his desire for something to cling onto, the reassurances that they were all okay and so far he’d not seen nor heard evidence of his mom outside seeing her car parked in front of the garage meaning the worry was gnawing to the point of fraying at the edges. All he had to do was slip into the basement, chill long enough to hear something then he’d haul out before anybody would know he was there. It was perfect!

Being forced to _wait_ until nightfall however now _that_ had made him extra fidgety for something to do after awakening a second time but after being burned he reconsidered the idea of leaving the safe space until there was not a trace of light remaining that could potentially harm. It felt like some form of conditioning in that you do bad thing once then punishment made you _not_ want to risk it again lest you come off worse a second time which was pretty disturbing. Now he could be an idiot at times flinging himself heedlessly into danger without thinking sure but in a worse twist the reminder of the pain never left his thoughts for very long lest he get tempted to try it anyway. Perhaps it was an instinctual thing then like the want to curl up when dawn wasn’t far off? Not like he was given a guidebook on what to expect or what ‘half’ truly consisted of best he had was nebulous guesses and his own knowledge of trolls.

_I am not a stranger to the dark_

In the present however the malformed hand is trailing along the carved earth feeling it’s texture be it hitched or smooth against the blueness not needing a guide with his eyes having long adjusted to what is _supposed_ to be completely pitch black but old habits die hard. All the while he is humming along to a fragrant corruption of an original song to try and set the mood in a show of black humour turning it into _tis the final breakdooown, da na naaa na na na na_ ~ It’d been a long while since he’d personally used this route, probably not since it was boarded to stop any complaints about the literal gaping hole in the wall happening come to think of it but they still kept it accessible for whenever it might be needed in emergencies or simply for easier access prior to when everything went wrong. What a strange legacy left behind by a warrior, this tunnel that was created by a hedgehog mole freeloader who decided that this somehow was far more sensible route without bothering to ask first because well why would he have? When nails slip into a groove no doubt caused by either his horn tips or crystalline back it raises a bittersweet smile and makes him stop to look at it properly. They weren’t even _friends_ yet let alone what they would be but through his obliviousness to human customs he gave them something that they never knew they would need and he never properly thanked him for because it simply never occurred to him to bother. He never said an awful lot of things he really should have; any chance was snatched away before he could just like it had with Vendel.

“Really miss you, you know?” Is whispered feather light while tracing the line along until it begins to fade into little more than a scrape, a scratch then nothing a few strides from where he started.

“I wonder what you’d have made of me being like this? My love of blue got a whole lot more ridiculous you’d have had a field day calling me some kinda knock-off of the real thing. Maybe you would have still been here when everyone left to rescue my mom, maybe things could have been different I don’t know. It’d have been funny seeing you get in Merlin’s face though, never were one to hold back your opinions for anybody and I’m sure you’d have one or two to get out.”

_Hide away, they say_

Thinking about it this had been the first night? Day? Whatever it was meant to be anyway that he hadn’t had any form nightmares in what felt like _weeks_. Suddenly being half strangled in a sheet covered in sweat and a heart still fresh on an adrenaline rush that became the expectation was replaced with something far more comforting that he couldn’t quite manage to put a single word to, like how there was a half remembered dream that came after drowning that let him see his mother before he discovered some things had bled out into the real world and there was no escaping the choice he’d committed himself to. There _was_ something special about that place though, the odd waters with their illusion of safety it offered and how no matter how far he went it always seemed to draw him back like a moth to the flame. Really, he _should_ be suspicious that it was a trap of some kind because nothing nice ever came free or easy and it made it all the more stranger he couldn’t bring even his anxiety riddled brain to do it. It was asking for a field day of worries but maybe it didn’t because it wasn’t some miracle worker? The attacks still came as thick and fast as the constantly being stressed out thing too not to mention the whole inability to remove the amulet issue no matter how much he clawed and pitched at it in multiple attempts.

Perhaps it was more akin to a life ring being offered until the dock one on which Gunmar would no longer be a threat could sweep him back to safety, the one where he’d no longer be a war dog for something he’d never even asked for but be allowed to simply be broken teenager instead. Somebody somewhere was looking out for him and he was grateful for it even with all the misgivings.

_Because we don't want your broken parts_

...

“Uggggh nope! Brain everything’s already too depressing can we try to lighten up a bit? Tobes and Claire are _fine_ and I need you to hold up long enough for another person off the list then you can have a freak out later over how stupid everything is.” A pause accompanied by a grimace deepened further by exposed teeth.

“And now I’m talking to myself again, fantastic.”

How long had he been walking down here anyway? It felt like forever since he left the stench of the sewers and questioned how trolls with their much more sensitive noses could tolerate the place. Even without eating anything in who knows how long it managed to assault his senses so bad he’d thrown up and had to hold his breath and bolt in case it did it again the place was plain _nasty_. His nose wrinkles at the memory, it was bad for humans but could be even worse, who knew? It least it didn’t stick to the armour which had decided to glow at a much softer hue though when he gets back it will be a little tempting to dunk himself in the water just in case. While he could dream of a nice hot shower outdoor living is a bit lacking in that department and stealing an alternative from someone wasn’t particularly high on the cards, he was risking a lot doing this alone.

The texture begins to change into a scattering of man-made and half chewed under his fingertips indicating he wasn’t far off now. Because they couldn’t exactly put any lights down here it was like a milestone indicator so nobody walked straight into the door and triggered the wards, now _those_ had had been haphazardly applied by Blinky in a fit of maniacal genius after discovering the wonders of human caffeine who kept chasing the high akin to a sugar buzz before they managed to get him back down to a more healthy intake. That was sure a fun fortnight though looking back the library had never looked tidier before he fell back into it’s natural chaos that anybody but him would be lucky to find anything but it always felt more homely whenever it was like that. They did their job though and within a few more steps the door begins to emerge like a humble border between the worlds, sucking in a deep breath he presses onwards keeping a constant ear out to be safe.

The door is opened by a crack, one which he leans into with a cautious sniff while peering into the gloom that appears to him perfect clarity. The air is stale with dust and dried paints with an added light chill from the heat rising away but more importantly no sense tells of any sign of life that might be laying in ambush which suggests if anybody is home right now they must be busy upstairs and have no reason to wander which is to his favour. Safe in the sheer irony, he creeps his way inside ensuring the push the trollish design closed behind him to trigger the illusion that hid it so well you wouldn’t think there was ever there at all. Certainly made a fantastic cover up meaning he wasn’t left explaining why the wall was as trashed as the kitchen was from the fight with an assassin that couldn’t be merely tidied away like the appliances after the whole amnesiac detour fiasco that still taints his waking thoughts with guilt. He remembers apologising about an awful lot of things, ish, but he’s not sure if any of it was real or he’d imagined the lot.

_I've learned to be ashamed of all my scars_

Despite having lived in this house his entire life the basement feels strangely _foreign_ to wander through putting aside the fact he is clanking about in armour and very much the wrong species, it was like intruding on a life he’d known of only days ago that he’d since been stripped of completely. Jim skirts between the remaining standing easels without a single rattle firmly on the side of paranoid about somehow being heard until his feet decide to take him over to the furnace or the ‘snack bar’ as it was once dubbed. Entirely on impulse he snatches from the coal bag and without even thinking he pops one straight into his mouth crunching it into splinters like it was really some form of naturally grown jawbreaker swallowing it down after with a another very nearly following before it suddenly occurs to him what he’d just done. He blinks slowly, the taste of dust still coats his tongue akin to powdered sugar and eyes up the remaining pieces sitting in his hand. Letting out a gag the survivors are very quickly stuffed into the furnace before he does anything stupid then smacks the catch on leaving him making a face because it actually tasted _nice_ and scarily in that brief moment could see what Draal had seen in the damn things making his stomach metaphorically turn because it was appreciating the flavour rather than joining in the disgust in the literal.

“ _I can’t believe I just did that, ew_.”

It is while supressing the shudder and picking his way across to the basement stairs a faint noise catches the attention of his hearing. Ears flick trying to tune in though it is being muffled by the ceiling and with piqued curiosity, he tries to tail where it might be coming from wobbling a little this way and that like he was playing a very warped game of hot and cold until ending up a bit more to the left near the shelving unit covered in bits and pieces for gardening all the while wondering why somebody was so upset and more specifically _who_ it was. Pressing his face against what was quite possibly a trowel and ignoring the desire to give the handle a bit of a chew (???) the words bit by bit become more distinct.

“-ade myself _very_ clear that I don’t appreciate you wandering around my house!”

_… Mom?_

The response is too muted to make out their meaning they’re not shouting back but whoever it was must have really manage to anger her given she rarely took that kind of tone with anyone yet here she was giving them both barrels and not caring at all about who might hear. Footsteps begin to stomp away taking her voice away with it so he attempts to blindly follow no longer paying attention to any of his surroundings in the desperate need for a few more words to cling onto and pocket into a greatly relieved heart. She’s okay, it whispers, _she was really okay_.

“My baby is _**gone**_ becau-”

His right sabaton catches on something through a rather careless misstep pulling his attention away to find himself now caught up in a wooden leg. With an annoyed sound it is unhooked and in a moment of pure innocence he happens to glance up to the culprit and is confronted with his own visage in the form of the final painting clad in silvers looking every bit the defender of the realm - That of her true son standing proudly, triumphant and _alive_.

_Run away, they say_

Blues widen in horror; chest tightening forcing every last drop of oxygen out of his lungs until he heaves on nothing but static with what may as well be knives embedded into his side.

_I’m still me, that’s still me, I’m not I’m not_

Hands latch onto his horns, tugging them harshly only to other himself even further while the rest of him sinks to his knees and tears begin trickle down stone flesh. It hurts, everything hurts so much and it’s still staring, _judging him_ , a testament to everything he no longer whilst looming over his newly broken body but he can’t look away. Frantically wanting it all to **stop** an arm swipes out sending both clattering to the floor with far too much force but while the stand crumpled with the loss of one of the struts cracking in half, the canvas lands spitefully by his lap. Even now he still cannot escape how the eyes refuse to leave his vision, how the old locks with new filled with judgement and scorn for someone who is nothing more than a pretender in blue.

_No one will love you as you are_

The feral scream that claws it’s way out of his throat ragged and raw is anything but human.

~~~

Still I have to go on fighting my fear

Till the promise of dawn follows it here

And an identity will rise

One pulse-wave of thought evolves

It can't be undone

If this current of life in my veins isn't real

What lies on the horizon?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Opening/closing lyrics for this chapter: [Identity Sequence - Zircon feat. Jillian Aversa](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jaudyv9DJjc)
> 
> ~
> 
> :D As a bonus if you hover over the Trollish you'll see translations! Anything in <>'s is where I've word fudged, mother is fudged from Mumu (Mom) due to lack of formal wording to use.
> 
> Some fun chapter notes for you because elements that happen here I've been sitting on since January and been dying to say something for ages!
> 
> \- Jim is using CBT anxiety techniques, something that did absolutely nothing for me so I'm putting them to a better use  
> \- That typo Toby makes is where that particular Council of Merlin art Stix did came from, you're welcome  
> \- The holy champinos! incident was in chapter 2 but was moved due to length, it's been sitting there this entire time  
> \- Originally Toby and Claire were going to head through the woods though the reasoning changed from a Jim hunt to recruitment and they were temporarily separated when Jim went to touch Claire's hair. The Creepslayerz becoming involved completely changed things and for the better I think  
> \- Eli's film rambling is a Train to Busan reference which is excellent and highly recommended Korean zombie horror film  
> \- Steve's texts being in caps is a reference to a beloved Steve RPer on Tumblr because they are a DELIGHT  
> \- Writing Steve in general is hilarious I've been missing out  
> \- I made "It's the final breakdoooown" joke also back in January related to the below, a friend insisted I should try and work it in so now you all get to enjoy it  
> \- I planned Jim trying to hear his mother via the basement for a long time, the paintings being there fit perfect for a further mess  
> \- Apparently I'm completely useless at doing more than one day/night per chapter, I can see why Jimhunters skimmed Day 1 I had to do so much leg work


End file.
